Archive of Our Own

Well, well, what an interesting development.

She was running for the mansion. He’d already had the gate opened for her. Even from this distance, he recognized her right away. People like him had, shall we say, otherworldly eyesight. And there was no mistaking those three hair buns she was sporting, even when they were accompanied by that white veil.

She used to come here a great deal when she was a child, but her visits had gotten less frequent as she’d grown older. Her last visit had been around a year ago. And yet, as he’d expected, she’d returned, desperate for an escape from her circumstances—even if that escape came in the form of this special place.

She’d grown into a beautiful young woman. Lithe figure, feminine muscles toned through hard work. She was only nineteen years old. So young, so full of life.

Such a pity.

It was obvious she was running from something. A wedding, if the white bridal gown and veil were any hint. The poor girl. Life just wouldn’t give her a break, would it. And he understood that feeling all-too well. He himself had been a decade older than she currently was when his life had taken a turn for the worst.

Such a shame.

But no matter.

She’d sought solace within these walls as a little girl, and then as a teenager. And now she was back, driven by forces she didn’t understand.

Yet.

But she would. He’d been waiting for her for so many years, and his wait was about to pay off.

He continued to watch her through the window. She’d passed through the gate and suddenly collapsed onto the ground, face-first.

”Be with me,” he whispered to her—or rather, his head whispered to her—from inside the hatbox. And then he watched as she began to pick herself up off the ground and stride forward. Getting closer, closer, to her destiny.

His body came gliding into the room with its red walking stick, having finished making the final arrangements. Just as she was reaching the front doors, his body picked up the hatbox and strode out. The head in the hatbox smiled in glee.

It was almost time. She was almost his.

Rey fled the chapel as if her life depended on it.

Because it did.

What had she been thinking, robbing Unkar Plutt? Yes, he was hated by everyone in town, but pretty much everyone in Niima was under his thumb. He was a heartless tyrant who controlled this town in intimidation and greed.

Rey had thought she could escape. She’d been wrong. Plutt held too much power here. Her own parents, when she was a child, had sold her off to him for drinking money, enslaving her to the heartless blackguard, only to get themselves killed in a brawl and buried in a pauper's grave. Now, in her late teens, she’d thought she could leave, start a new life far away from here.

How stupid she’d been.

As a scavenger, she was skilled in the art of rummaging around for valuables. She’d tried to use those skills to rob Plutt of the funds she’d need to leave this hellhole. But she should’ve known better. When he’d caught her, Plutt had decided to punish her in a manner worse than demanding she pay the money back. She’d noticed the lewd looks he’d been giving her for years now. It wasn’t so surprising, in hindsight, that he’d decided to force her into repaying her debt with herself.

Before she’d known it, she’d been thrown into a bridal gown and dragged to a chapel. Plutt had simply laughed off her pleas for mercy and told her there was no hope of escape. When the moment had come for her to recite her vows, something had come over her. As if on their own, her hands had grabbed the closest candlestick and slammed it into Plutt’s head. He’d howled in rage and she’d run for the door.

She could’ve sworn she’d felt a sudden sharp pain in her back, just before she’d left the chapel, but she hadn’t had time to check that she was okay. She’d simply run out into the moonlit night, having no idea where her legs were carrying her.

As long as she ended up anywhere but here, she’d be content.

As it turned out, her legs had taken her to that place. A place she’d secretly been using, on and off, for years as her sanctuary. It had started when she was a child. The mansion was huge, ancient, and imposing. For hundreds of years, it had been left abandoned, unwanted. A relic of the past, a reminder of bygone days.

Nobody knew the mansion’s full history, but the place was infamous for being haunted. It was in a secluded area, surrounded by a large metal gate and a dense forest. Nobody ever tried to breach the barrier, because those who did were said never to be seen again.

It was believed that there had been a number of deaths in the mansion in the past. The most infamous death was a murder said to have taken place around two centuries ago. Rumor had it that Ben Solo, heir to the mansion, had been murdered with an ax by his uncle. The uncle had fled town just afterwards. Then the person who’d taken control of the house after the tragedy had been driven mad, eventually hanging himself. In time, no one would set foot in the mansion, and the place was left to rot away—its only visitors those of the disembodied nature.

Whether or not the stories were true, they were both tragic and fascinating to think about. Rey, already used to the horrors of life, loved to climb over the rusted metal gate when she was a little girl. Since no one else dared to go anywhere near the mansion, it was the perfect escape whenever she was desperate to get away from her circumstances for a few hours.

The grounds were the stuff of nightmares. There was a cemetery in the backyard, full of tombstones. And the house itself was too otherworldly to imagine, unless you’d actually been inside it, in person. Purple wallpaper with black figures that seemed to watch her through millions of white eyes. Head busts she’d swear would move with her as she walked by them. Paintings of people who seemed normal, only to turn into monsters if Rey saw them out of the corner of her eye.

Had that man over there turned into a skeleton?

Had that woman become a cat-like creature?

No, of course not. It was just her imagination running away with her.

Just like that hatbox. It was always sitting in the library, on a small table, near the fireplace. Above the fireplace hung a large painting believed to be of the murdered heir, Ben Solo. Rey loved to spend time in the library, and she was always captivated by the idea of Ben. If the painting was accurate, he’d been handsome, with ivory skin and blacker-than-black hair. He wore a black suit and cloak, complete with a top hat. He carried a unique gentleman’s walking stick that was red and shaped kind of like a saber. Rey loved to look at him and imagine the tragedy of dying so young.

She could swear that, on several occasions, she’d seen a head inside his hatbox, watching her with keen eyes. But she knew she was simply frightening herself. With all the rumors surrounding deaths in the mansion, it was easy to get caught up in the spirit—or spirits—of her surroundings. She could only imagine what the place must be like after dark. She’d never been able to find out; Plutt always demanded that she return before the sun went down.

But, oh, had there been so many times that she’d wished to experience the place in the dark, under the moonlight.

She hadn’t visited the mansion in a year or so; she’d been too busy trying to work towards escaping town. But now, on the run in her bridal dress, she was headed for the gate yet again, ready to scale it and get to freedom. She hated that she would finally experience the place after dark, for the first time, in such a dire situation. She would’ve been thrilled in any other context.

To her shock, the gate was sitting open. Why was it open? Rey couldn’t see anyone else around her right now. Of course, it was exceptionally dark and foggy right now, except for the full moon above. But she’d never seen the gate open before, not once.

An eerie shiver made the hairs on the back of her neck rise, but she didn’t have time to think about it. She just had to get to the house as soon as possible.

Just as she passed through the gate, she suddenly collapsed onto the ground. Blinding pain had shot through her body from within and made her crumble. The world around her was spinning like a top. Her heart gave a lurch, and then seemed to stop completely. A large, deep breath—the deepest she’d ever taken—rose up in her chest and promptly escaped through her lips.

And then the pain suddenly disappeared.

Gone, just like that.

What? What was that? What had just happened to her?

For a moment, she didn’t move, too stunned. But then ”Be with me.”

The words sounded as if they’d been said directly into her ear. They’d been spoken by a deep voice—a man’s voice.

She felt new strength enter her body. Raising herself back onto her feet, she walked on, heading for the house.

And yes, she walked on, no longer running, no longer in a hurry.

In fact, she was feeling much calmer all of a sudden. Her fear was gone. She simply strode towards the house, composed, relieved. Drawn by some invisible force coming from within the mansion.

The large front doors, with their demonic knockers, creaked open on their own as Rey approached them. She didn’t hesitate. She simply passed through, entering the house at last, the doors groaning shut behind her.

”She is here, Mother,” his head said from inside its hatbox. His body was holding the box up to face the large, head-sized crystal ball sitting on its customary perch in the center of the round table.

The blue face within the crystal ball nodded her approval. ”Good. You’ve been alone for too long, Ben. The Force has brought your bride to you at last. Go welcome her home now.”

He grinned and turned to exit the small, circular room hidden in the heart of the house. Everything was already prepared; his work was complete. All he needed was his bride, who’d been kind enough to come already dressed for the occasion.

Tonight, the happy haunts lurking around this house would celebrate with their master. Music, dancing, everything that made the dead feel alive again.

For some reason, it didn’t occur to Rey to question her surroundings. This was the first time she’d ever been in the mansion after dark, but one would never know it. She had no fear at all. She simply moved through the house like a shadow, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to do.

Her surroundings were familiar, and yet foreign. Chandeliers and candelabras were lit for the first time, candle flames flickering mysteriously. She passed by a hallway, and a strange sound made her stop and turn to look. A candelabra was floating in midair, neither coming closer to her, nor getting farther away from her. It was simply hovering, as if curious about her.

Following some invisible string, she kept walking. Soon, she found herself in a room with four paintings. She’d been in this room many times over the years. The paintings were of people—a young girl with an umbrella, a gentleman in a suit, an elderly woman holding a rose, and a man with his arms crossed. They observed her from above. She just looked up at them, a cold shiver running down her spine when a wicked voice cackled around her.

The next thing she knew, the paintings seemed to change. They were growing. Or was the room itself stretching? The painting of the girl with the umbrella revealed that she was actually standing on a tightrope, a hungry alligator waiting to devour her. The one with the gentleman in a suit showed the explosive barrel beneath his feet. The one of the elderly woman exposed the tombstone of her husband, who’d suffered a hatchet to the head. And the one of the man with his arms crossed made it clear that he was sitting on top of two other men who were sinking into quicksand beneath him.

Rey was strangely hypnotized by the sight.

”Be with me.”

Again, the words were spoken directly into her ear, in that same deep, masculine voice. Entranced, she turned around, but there was no one there. Just a door that led to another hallway.

Unable to resist, she made her way down the hall. Small chandeliers were swaying from wind that didn’t exist—some chandeliers swaying to the left, others to the right. Soon, Rey passed by a grandfather clock that was spinning backwards. Was it malfunctioning, or perhaps counting down to something?

”Wrap on a table; it’s time to respond. Send us a message from somewhere beyond.”

Rey could hear a woman chant in the distance. This hall was leading to a single door, and the center of the door was moving forward and backward, as if the door was breathing.

”Hello?” she called, cracking the door open and peering inside.

Slipping through the door, she noticed that the room was almost completely black. The only lights came from a few candles and a large crystal ball perched in the center of a round table. A blue light emanated from the ball, revealing that there was a woman’s head trapped within it. Levitating around the room were instruments—a harp, trumpets, drums—just barely revealed by the crystal ball’s fluorescent light.

”Creepies and crawlies, toads in a pond, let there be music from regions beyond!”

The words, spoken by the head in the ball, were answered by music from the floating instruments.

”Who are you?” Rey asked. “Where am I?”

The head slowly turned to face Rey. ”I am Madame Leia,” said the woman. “Former mistress of this house.” She studied Rey for a moment, giving her a look of astute interest. “He knew you were coming. He’s been waiting for you.”

”Who?” Rey questioned. “Who’s been waiting for me?”

The woman didn’t give an answer. She only studied Rey, eventually saying, “He knew you were meant for this place. The Force tied your destinies together. And now, it’s brought my son his bride.”

”His bride? What does that mean?”

Again, the lady in the crystal ball didn’t answer. She simply glanced over at a wall, as yet another door opened.

On their own, Rey’s legs turned her and took her towards the door. She kept going, forward, one step at a time.

”The Force will be with you, always,” said Madame Leia as the door closed behind Rey.

Soon, Rey was standing in the library, looking up at the familiar, compelling face of Ben Solo. Her eyes met his dark eyes in the portrait. She felt as if she were being sucked into them.

”Be with me.”

This time, when the words were spoken, she saw a black figure in the corner of her eye. She turned and found herself face-to-face with a figure that didn’t have a face.

No, she was wrong. It did have a face, but not on its body. Instead, it was carrying a face in a hatbox. Like the face in the crystal ball, the face in the hatbox emitted bright blue light.

Rey was arrested by the skeletal face’s gaze as it grinned at her from the hatbox. The gaze continued as the shadowy figure, with its red, saber-like walking stick, glided towards the fireplace. In the blink of an eye, the face vanished from the box and appeared on the apparition’s body.

At first, it was the same grinning, skeletal face she’d seen in the box. Until it wasn’t. Before Rey could comprehend what was occurring, the face took on human form. It was a man’s face—still blue, but familiar. Rey knew that face so well.

”Don’t be afraid,” said the same deep voice she’d been hearing in her ear. “You’re my guest.”

Her eyes drifted up to the painting above the fireplace. Although shining with blue light, the man before her was wearing the same black suit, the same cloak, and the same black top hat. He was using the same walking stick, and he had the same ivory skin and blacker-than-black hair.

”Ben?” she whispered.

He grinned, setting the hatbox down on its customary little table. His dark eyes traveled up and down her body. “You look beautiful, Rey.”

For once, her senses were starting to return to her. What had happened to her? How had she made it this far? Why did it seem so natural for her to walk through the mansion and find herself here—with him?

She’d expected to ask him all of these questions, but instead found herself saying ”Who am I? What am I?”

Oh, he would gladly tell her who—and what—she was.

”I told you, you’re my guest,” he answered, easing his way into the conversation they needed to have.

”The crystal ball lady said I’m your bride.”

Ben chuckled. “Yes, my mother was always a blunt one. You don’t know anything about your parents, do you?”

He started to circle her, slowly. Rey seemed to shiver at his nearness. Which was to be expected—he was hers, after all.

“They were nobody,” she said. “They sold me to Unkar Plutt for drinking money. He tried to force me to marry him tonight.”

”And how did that go?”

”I, uh—Well, I don’t really know what happened. Something came over me. I just grabbed a candlestick and attacked him.”

”That’s not surprising. The Force is strong with you. It would’ve come through for you in your time of need. And then you ran here to escape, didn’t you?”

”Yes.” Her head lowered in embarrassment. “What’s the Force?”

”It’s the energy that moves through all living things. It binds the galaxy together. It’s actually what first led you here when you were a little girl, and it’s what made you return now.” He stopped circling her, choosing instead to stand still and bask in her presence. “The Force is why you can see me right now.”

”You’re a ghost.”

He nodded and stepped closer. He was significantly taller and larger than she was; she was looking up at him. If the stars in her eyes were any indication, she liked that. And he knew she would like it much more if she were underneath him.

”Why did you bring up my parents?” Rey asked, her breathy voice betraying how much he was affecting her.

Ben inclined his head. “To answer that question, I have to tell you about my family first.” He pursed his lips; even now, so many years later, the memories were painful. “This house has been in my family for generations. Hundreds of spirits reside here. I grew up around them. My mother and her twin brother were strong with the Force, like their father before them. Mother passed it down to me, but I hated it.”

Needing to touch her, he brushed a finger across her cheek, feeling her soft skin. ”When I became a man, I grew rebellious and got involved with a man named Snoke. He, too, was Force-sensitive and promised he could teach me how to control it. But it just got worse.”

The old anger was resurfacing quickly; only Rey’s presence was keeping it at bay. ”I didn’t know that Snoke had been coveting the Solo estate for years. And then, when my mother died, I didn’t know, at first, that he’d killed her.” His fingers trailed across her throat. “After her death, everything fell apart. My uncle was so heartbroken he left town immediately; I never saw him again. Snoke was staying here to help with my mother’s arrangements. And one night, he killed me, here, in the library, with an ax. It was easy for him to blame my uncle, since my uncle had left and couldn’t defend himself.”

Rey’s eyes were large with both compassion and anger. “And then Snoke stole your inheritance."

”Precisely.” A wicked smile spread across his cheeks. “But he hadn’t realized that the stories I’d told him about this haunted mansion weren’t exaggerated. He was constantly surrounded by ghosts—including my mother and me. My mother was present, inside her old crystal ball. And I was present, with my hatbox.”

”And you drove him to madness.”

”I could’ve killed him myself and been done with it, but this way was much more fun. And it wasn’t hard; Snoke was a coward at heart.” His hand slid between her breasts. Her mouth fell sweetly open at his touch. “Snoke hanged himself just after he had a son, about a year after he’d killed me. That son went on to flee the house after experiencing the same hauntings that had driven his father over the edge.”

Needing to get his lips on her, he dragged his mouth across her forehead, finally getting a taste of her skin. ”The Force revealed to my mother that, in time, my bride would be born among my murderer’s descendants. For two hundred years, only sons came down Snoke’s line. Until one day, nineteen years ago, a daughter was finally born.”

Her face reflected heat from his kiss, and shock at his words. He could imagine how surprising it must be for her to discover that she was the many-times great-granddaughter of the man who’d murdered Ben.

But no matter. They were together now; everything would be all right.

They wouldn’t be alone anymore.

”Ben,” Rey whispered, instinctively moving her head to chase his lips when they danced across her chin. “I don’t understand. I’m feeling—”

”Don’t be afraid; I feel it, too.”

Showing mercy, he rubbed his lips against hers, ever so lightly . . . then folded his lips around hers in a sultry kiss. To his pleasure, she didn’t fight him. Just melted for him. He wrapped his mouth around hers again, with more heat than before. She tasted like life, and he’d been starved of it for too long.

He moaned in rapture. Then he angled his head, their lips mating with each other. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, laying claim to what he was owed. He would gladly die all over again for the chance to worship her sweet lips.

He didn’t know how long they indulged themselves. He was dead, so he didn’t have to worry about pausing to catch his breath. But the moment was broken when a crow flew into the room and cawed at him.

Their lips parted, and he chuckled. ”And so it begins,” he said.

She looked adorably flustered for him. “What begins?”

”Why, getting revenge on your murderer, of course. Now, come.” He offered his hand to her like the gentleman he was. “Join me. Please.”

Unkar Plutt did not want to be here right now. Like everyone else in this town, he was terrified of this place. Rumor had it that the mansion was haunted, and one look at the abandoned abode would eradicate all doubt. It was a terrifying place to behold, so old and unwanted.

And it was especially frightening right now, under the light of the full moon.

Curse that Rey girl! The little thief had dared to rob him. She’d actually thought she could steal from him and leave to start a new life. How stupid of her. She belonged to him. Her parents had sold her to him.

And then, to add insult to injury, she’d attacked him in the middle of their wedding, and fled. In a desperate move, he’d thrown a knife into her back as she was leaving the chapel. She hadn’t even stopped; she’d been too busy running away. Plutt had ended up following a trail of blood to this mansion.

Why would the stupid girl come here, of all places?

Plutt had always known the girl was strange, but to run to a place like this?

He’d found the gate open for some reason. Had Rey opened it? How would she have managed to do that?

Her body was lying on the ground, flat on its face. Lifeless. The dagger was still buried in her back. She must’ve bled to death during her run and never made it up to the house.

Good! That meant he had nothing more to worry about. This town was under his control.

Which meant nobody alive would come after him, even over something like this.

Before he could leave, there was a sudden loud clang behind him. When he jumped and spun around, he saw that the gate had slammed shut, trapping him.

But how? There was no one else around right now.

Was someone inside the house, watching him?

”Hey, let me out of here!” he demanded, grabbing two bars and shaking them angrily. “Did you hear me? I said, let me out of here!”

There was no answer.

The hairs on his arms stood on end. He didn’t like this. Something didn’t feel right. He was surrounded by fog. The full moon was glaring down at him. He wanted to believe that he was alone. And yet, he could swear he was being watched.

This must be a prank. Whoever was responsible for this would feel Plutt’s wrath!

Pretending he was not sweating in fear, he charged up to the house and used a knocker to bang hard on the door. “Hey, who’s in there?” he shouted. “Open up! Whoever you are, you’ll regret treating Unkar Plutt like this.”

When there was still no answer, he started to make his way around the house. But an unusual shift in the air made him stop in his tracks. It was somehow getting even foggier around him. He glanced up, seeing clouds in the sky he hadn’t noticed a moment ago. The full moon was peaking out through them like a single, bright eye. And the next thing he knew, lightning was starting to flash, thunder following close behind.

It was beginning to rain. Where had this sudden shower come from? The weather was behaving so strangely tonight.

All the more reason he needed to get out of here.

As rain fell upon his fat body, that feeling of being watched increased tenfold . . . or was it more like a hundredfold? Turning a corner, he froze. Just when he thought this night couldn’t get any more unsettling, he saw that lightning was lighting up dozens, maybe hundreds, of tombstones. It was like stepping into a horror tale.

Utter dread wrapped around Plutt like a dark shadow.

He shielded his eyes when bright blue light promptly came from his left. When his eyes adjusted, his jaw fell. There were three men standing there—a pudgy one holding a suitcase, a short one holding a ball-and-chain, and a tall one who looked more like a skeleton than a man. The blue light was shining from within them, and they were thumbing like hitchhikers.

”Leaving so soon? Could you give us a ride with you?” asked the tall skeleton.

And that was when Plutt screamed!

He tried to run away, only to find himself in a living nightmare.

He was alone. He was alone!

But he wasn’t! There were hundreds of people around him, in the graveyard—all blue, all glowing.

None alive.

They were everywhere he turned.

A tea party. A pair on a seesaw. A beheaded knight. A king with a sword through his body.

A monk. An old hag. A musical band. An opera singer.

A group of five busts who were singing the most haunting tune Plutt had ever heard in his life. ”Happy haunts materialize, and begin to vocalize! Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize!”

This couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t. Plutt had fallen and hit his head. Or he was in some sort of coma.

”Here comes the bride,” whispered a female voice in his ear.

Another scream was torn from his throat. He fled up to the mansion, desperately pounding against a wall with his fists. “Help me!” he shouted. “Someone HELP ME!”

A door he hadn’t seen suddenly opened for him. He didn’t hesitate, just ran inside. The door slammed shut behind him.

”Please, can someone help me?! This place is haunted. Get me out of here!”

He was a begging, blubbering mess. But he fell silent for a moment, when he saw the paintings. They were all over the walls. Lightning flashed through the windows. When the lightning reflected off the paintings, Plutt blinked. A large ship in one of the paintings turned into a ghost ship. In another painting, a beautiful woman turned into a Medusa-like femme fatale.

”NOOOOO!” he shouted.

Plutt made a break for it, having no idea where to go.

”’Til death do us part,” said that same female voice in his ear.

He ran harder, trying to escape someone he couldn’t see. Candles were flickering. The air around him was ice cold. He could swear there were eyes judging him around every corner.

The more he ran, the darker his surroundings became, with fewer and fewer lit candles to light his way. Before long, he found himself in pitch blackness.

”Who’s there?” he cried, his voice hoarse from his wails. “I can’t see a thing! What do you want from me?!”

”Welcome, foolish mortal!” said a voice from the darkness. The next second, Plutt was confronted by yet another blue light. Except this one was coming from a box—a hatbox?

The box was suspended in midair. There was a skull-like face inside it, grinning at Plutt with ghoulish delight. “We’ve been dying to have you.”

Plutt was about to lose consciousness from sheer terror alone. Fighting to stay awake, he spun around to escape the hatbox ghost. But there was another ghost standing behind him. A woman.

To no surprise, she, too, gleamed with blue light. But what was surprising was that she was wearing a white wedding dress and veil.

Plutt noticed that the spirit’s hair was tied in three hair buns. He didn’t want to admit it, but his gut told him he knew exactly who this phantom was. “R-Rey?”

The apparition smiled and held up an ax. “You may now kiss the bride,” she declared.

And then, with a swing of the ax, Plutt’s head rolled across the floor.

Rey grinned in macabre satisfaction. Ben’s idea had been brilliant. The ax in her hand was the same one that had been used by Snoke to end Ben’s life. Now, two centuries later, Snoke’s descendant had put the ax to much better use.

It had felt so surreal, a few minutes ago, to find out that she was a ghost. Until Ben had revealed to her that she’d passed away outside, at the gate, she hadn’t realized that she herself had been blue the entire time she’d been walking around the mansion. Apparently, it could take some time for ghosts to realize that they were dead.

But she hadn’t minded the news. She was where she was meant to be, and she knew it.

Now that the show was over and Plutt was dead, there was no further need to be in pitch blackness. So Ben and Rey stood side-by-side and watched as the massive fireplace nearby ignited itself, along with the candles on the tables and in the chandeliers overhead. Soon, the ballroom was fully lit around them, ready for use.

What a fitting place for Plutt to die—in exactly the same place where Rey’s true wedding ceremony was about to happen.

A wave of amber hellfire suddenly shot out of the fireplace, burning and devouring Plutt whole—both his head, and his headless body. Soon, he was nothing but ashes on the floor.

The poor man. It seemed he wouldn’t be joining the happy haunts in this mansion tonight after all.

Such a pity.

Kylo’s head vanished from its hatbox and reappeared on his body. When his human face was restored, he proudly offered his hand to his bride, and she gladly accepted it. Guests materialized all around them, watching in anticipation. The organist appeared at the pipe organ and began to thunder away on the keyboards. The officiant materialized a second later to bless the union.

Ben and Rey approached the officiant and knelt.

”Do you, Ben Solo, take Rey Snoke as your wedded wife? Do you vow to rest in peace with her, sharing the afterlife with her in love and devotion, for all eternity?”

Ben smiled lovingly at Rey. “I do.”

Then the officiant turned his attention to Rey. “And do you, Rey Snoke, take Ben Solo as your wedded husband? Do you vow to rest in peace with him, sharing the afterlife with him in love and devotion, for all eternity?”

She nodded eagerly. ”I do.”

”Then I now pronounce you a Dyad in the Force, from now, until the end of time. May the Force be with you.”

They faced each other, leaning in close. “You’re not alone anymore,” she promised.

”Neither are you.”

And so, with a kiss, their souls were sealed for the rest of eternity. Ben swept Rey straight into a dance, whirling her around the ballroom with fluid grace. The celebrations lasted for hours, deep into the night. Spectral guests hung from the chandeliers, toasted the couple with wine, danced to the thunderous music of the pipe organ.

And later, in the privacy of their bedroom, the newlyweds stripped each other hungrily. In no time, Ben was buried to the hilt inside his new bride. It felt better than anything he’d ever experienced in life, or death.

Their spectral bodies had no blood, no bodily fluids at all. But they could still feel.

If anything, their spectral bodies could feel pleasure even more profoundly, uninhibited by the limitations of their physical bodies.

”That’s it,” he grunted, thrusting his cock hard and fast, deep inside her cunt. “You feel so good, sweetheart. Squeezing me to death.”

She happily let him ride her, luxuriating in the feel of his skin as it rubbed against hers. Both of them may have died virgins, but there was no need for them to be concerned about pain or discomfort. They were already dead, after all.

There was nothing but ecstasy from now on.

Her naked breasts bounced and jiggled with the force of his thrusts. Ben groped them in his enormous hands, her nipples poking through his fingers. He crammed her breasts together and buried his face between them, trying to smother himself with her soft, plump flesh.

She moaned, arching her hips, encouraging his cock to pound harder and rougher inside her. “Ben, I need it. Don’t stop.”

He turned his head and caught a nipple between his teeth. His mouth was deathly cold, causing the nipple to pucker deliciously. She humped him with her hips. His cock drilled her madly. Blinding pleasure was building between their legs.

”Mmmm, Reyyy,” he growled.

Her chest arched and she came to the sound of his deep voice, just as lightning flashed through the window. Ben threw his head back as the force of his own orgasm nearly split him apart. Then he kissed her lips wolfishly, grinding against her, milking their pleasure for all it was worth.

”Ahh, that was definitely worth the wait,” he mumbled as they were coming down from their high.

”I want to do it again,” she said with a mischievous giggle.

He smirked, already so pleased with his new bride. ”We can do it all you want, sweetheart. Remember, there’s no need for us to rest . . . We’re already resting in peace.”