Actions

Work Header

The Beast Within

Summary:

Dark romance regency tale of fear and love, lust and obsession.

She ran from him once, this time, he will not let her go.

A very dark tale containing sensitive themes and explicit sexual material. Not a standard romance. You’ve been warned.

Chapter 1

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

 

 

1801

 

The day Rey Niima’s life changed started like any other. She rose before dawn, and dressed as warmly as she could, pulling layers of threadbare clothing on, in an effort to trap what little heat her rail thin body managed to produce. The orphanage was awakening, the other children yawning and dressing, and yet, for a place with so many children, it was quiet. These were not children to chat and giggle, and this was not a place for laughter.

It was a place for the forsaken. A place to be forgotten.

She was out of the ramshackle building, and walking toward the bridge as soon as the sun was rising, heading for the mill she worked at across the river. The fog over the city lifted slowly, the fumes rising off the streets held down by the heavy clouds above.

She made it to work on time, and got her head down, manning the loom she was to stand at, ignoring how, hour after hour, her legs started to ache, a constant, pressing, ache, as though the very bones themselves were weeping.

She went to relieve herself after a few hours, crouching outside over an open latrine, the fumes of which made her eyes water. As she finished, brushing her filthy skirts down over her swollen legs, she saw the flash of a colour skirt from the corner of her eye. Curious, as most twelve year olds are, she followed the pretty fabric around the corner, to a secluded work shed. She had lost it, she thought, disappointedly, as she turned to go, before hearing a soft, feminine moan, and then, that bright, pale pink fabric was once again visible, peeking out from the other side of the wooden building. Rey crept closer, the feet silently sinking into the stinking mud of the yard and was shocked to see two people, engaged in rather private business, here outside, for all to see. That in itself was not unusual, she saw worse each day where she lived, but the couple in question were not low born, she could tell immediately from their cleanliness and clothes, as well as the fact that one of them was the man who visited the mill once a month, walking through and looking on everyone calculatingly, accompanied by the floor man.

She must have made a sound, for suddenly the couple flew apart, and Rey tried to back up, but caught her heel in the mud, and fell on her back.

“You girl – why are you out here instead of working?” the man shouted, and she cowered in the mud, afraid of a slap or a kick, something that was not uncommon in the mill.

“I was just using the privy, if you please Sir” she stammered, and tried to pull herself out the sticking mud.

“Stop – Brendol, darling, look, she is hurt… she means no harm, do you?” the woman asked, coming to crouch a safe distance from Rey. Rey blinked up at her, her eyes widening in wonder. She didn’t think she had ever seen such a beautiful sight. The Lady, for that was what she undoubtedly was, was clean, startlingly so, her creamy pale skin untouched by the sores and pox that marked most adults she saw. Her mouth was stained a pretty pink, and her blue eyes were surrounded by white, more clear than she had ever seen. Her pretty blonde curls were pilled beneath a bonnet and as she gave Rey a soft smile, a part of her longed to reach out and be embraced by this otherworldly woman.

“Don’t get too close Franny, she’s filthy” the man said stiffly, as Rey finally gained her feet and stood looking curiously between them.

“Now, child, do not get it into your head to talk to anyone of what you have seen… you could be chastised for spying on private matters” the man continued, as Rey twisted her fingers, and thought of getting through the rest of her day with shoes that were sliding with mud, in and out. It wouldn’t be the first time, but today was growing colder than the week before, and that colder again. The year was turning and she prayed she wouldn’t get ill. Being ill meant losing pay, and maybe even her place, which could not happen, at any cost.

“Now, get back inside – scamper off” the man said, and with a last glance at the beautiful woman’s face, she turned and ran back inside.

 


 

 

She worked hard to make up for the time she’d missed, earning only a scuff around the ear from Unkar Plutt, the unkind floor manager. She was an expert piecer, already well experienced having done it for the last two years. She tugged the broken ends of fabric into the loom, quick and efficiently, least her fingers be caught and dragged into the metal interior. She had never injured herself, but she had many a scar from the sharp edges, and her fingers were calloused and hardened to it, by now. She left the loom going, and dropped down onto the floor, coughing as she stirred the collection of cotton fluff that lay there, before shimmying under the machine. It clacked over her head, the noise near deafening.

“Careful like, Rey” she heard her friend Finn call to her. Finn and they had grown up together at Niima for a while, before he was sent to the workhouse. Being a boy, and a little older than her, he got a place to sleep, meals and a small wage in exchange for working. He now dropped by the mill sometimes, bringing deliveries to and fro.

She steeled her nerve, focusing on the heavy machinery moving above her at a violent pace, and started to clean the cotton dust out the nooks and crannies of the looming monster. She then raised her brush and started to sweep the wheels, the dust falling on her face.

She coughed more violently, her chest seizing and propelling her body upwards, until she would feel the heat of the machine o her forehead. She dropped back down weakly. She could hear Finn talking overhead.

“What is the girl doing under there?” a voice asked, low and masculine.

“She’s fettlin’ under, my Lord” she heard the nerves in Finn’s voice, and hurried to see who it was that had approached them.

“And that means?”

“Erm, scavenging, my Lord” Rey listened with one ear as she moved to the last part of the job oiling the spindles, as the bobbin was going up.

“Why is the machine still in motion?” another voice asked.

“Erm, stopping would be costly sir, you understand” the gruff voice of Unkar Plutt was the only one she recognised.

“Is that not illegal?” another voice asked, younger than the others. Rey heard the words, and in her alarm, made to rush out. She couldn’t be caught getting in trouble. As she snatched her hand from the spindle, her sleeve caught suddenly and a loud cry left her mouth before she could help it. Her arm was pulled into motion, in and out, up and down, and she tried desperately to wrestle her sleeve from the metal hook that had caught it.

“Rey!” she heard Finn call out, as he dropped down beside her, and passed her a small, but sharp knife. She took it by feel, nicking her fingers in the process, and reached for her arm. It was in such motion, it took several tries and a few cuts into her wrist to manage it, but she severed the cloth, and finally slid out from under the machine. The workers nearby glanced at her, pale and wheezing, hands smeared with blood, and droplets across her face, from her frantic sawing. She saw four men standing over her. The Unkar Plutt, the brute she knew well, as well as the man who she had seen outside, clutched in his lovers embrace, the one she had called Brendol. The difference in dress between the two men was startling. While the floor manager was lord to her and all who worked the mill, this man was clearly his superior. She shifted her head to the other two, and saw yet again another level of distinction. This must be what their gods looked like, she though as Finn helped her stand up.

“I don’t condone breaking of the law in the factory, at any time. What the workers will get up to though, to save time, pinch a penny” Brendol was saying, gesturing toward Rey, though his face was turned to the elder of the two men. Rey stifled the urge to protest, knowing it would go unheard. The oldest of the fancier men was greying, but handsome and tall, dressed impeccably and wearing a top hat, she fancied she had never seen someone so rich.

“She’s hurt” The man behind him remarked, his dark eyes trained on the blood on her hands. Younger than the others, a good deal younger, the tallest yet among them, he was pale, with a dark intensity that at the moment, was focused upon her.

“It’s nothing, my Lord” she said, stepping forward and raising her hands to show them.

“Just a little cut-“ she broke off as Plutt stepped forward and cuffed her hard across her cheek. She turned her head, feeling blood fill her mouth, as her teeth had bitten down hard on her tongue.

“Silence – who do you think you are to talk without permission to your superiors?” the man growled. Rey dropped her head, the picture of subservience.

“Begging your pardon” She murmured.

“A little river rat like you will be out before the shift is over, if you don’t remember your place” he continued, before looking to the watchful eyes of the men beside him, and falling silent.

“Here – let me see” the youngest man said, shouldering past Plutt, and reaching out an impossibly clean hand toward her filthy one, now not only streaked with mud from the yard but blood too.

“Ben – careful” the eldest man said, as Ben touched the wrist that was barely as wide as two of his fingers together, and turned it over. The child watched him with curious eyes.

He had thought she might cry and be distressed by the manager’s poor treatment of her, but she wasn’t. She watched him steadily, and he realised that the show of subservience had been only an act. Courage and curiosity burned in her eyes as she watched him pull a snowy white handkerchief from his pocket and tie it around the wrist with the deeper cuts.

“You must keep that clean” he instructed softly. Rey looked up and met his eyes, strangely mournful, a warm hazel colour in the light falling through the few factory windows, glowing golden and green in places.

“Don’t worry about her, young Ben. If it festers, she’ll see a doctor, as any worker injured on the job” Brendol said, and Rey couldn’t prevent the laugh that fell from her lips, from the outright lie the man had spoken. The men before her seemed to flinch, and Finn made a grab for her, as the Plutt stepped back to her again, his face promising to do more than scuff her this time.

“Desist sir” the youngest man, Ben, said, with more authority than she would have expected of him. He stood beside her, towering miles above, and looked to the eldest man.

“Father, if this is the condition of the work in the place, I do not think it is the type of investment you were thinking of making”

“Now, now, the child is overwrought and upset, she doesn’t know her mind. She should take the rest of the day off, return home and rest” Brendol was saying, as Rey widened her eyes in alarm.

“No, I need no time off, please sire, please. I am well, I can work” she said, stepping up to the loom, and starting to piece threads again, hoping that the blood from her wrist would not taint the white cotton being produced.

“No, I insist. You must return home, immediately” Brendol’s voice held such command, Rey let her hands fall from the loom, and caught Finn’s eye, who was watching the exchange with pity. She let him see her despair, for only he knew what it meant to go home early. It meant loss of wages and being replace. She had lost her position.

 


 

Lord Han Solo, Marquess of Alderaan, watched his son, Benjamin Organa Solo, Duke of Corellia, settle into the carriage, his displeasure wrought in every feature of his face, so like his own, many years ago. He had no stomach for business it seemed, every thought he had was written across his face, and Han was sure that Brendol Hux was under no illusion of what Ben had thought of his mill, and the fate of the potential investment they were considering would be.

Ben looked angry, shrugging of the coachman’s offer of aid as they approached the carriage and throwing himself in with all the energy and opinion of youth. Han merely watched the storm blow across Ben’s face.

“Where do you think that child ran off to?” he asked after a moment, leaning on the window to look out at the bustling yard.

“Home, I suppose, wherever she calls it.”

“Home? Some home it must be, I’ve never seen a more scrawny nor dirty soul”

“An orphan, no doubt, they are the ones lucky to find a position in the mills” Han said. Ben ran and hand through his hair, fashionably long, and flopping over his forehead.

“Why is the world this way?” his dissolute son muttered as he watched the workers outside, as the carriage pulled slowly out onto the main street, scattering children begging on the corner.

“The world is this way because shrewd businessmen like Hux will protect their bottom line, and prioritise their income, above all else, it is the theory of capitalism Ben.”

“I won’t be a man like him” Ben promised.

“And you shall never have to be, my son. Your mother’s title, land and wealth will all be yours. You need never see how the rest of the world works” Han said, and Ben must have detected a note of criticism there, as he looked sharply to his father.

“But even if you do not see it, it will continue working that way, unwitnessed by you, and unrelenting. That child is no-one, only an example of thousands like her.”

Han had not come from the kind of money his wife had. He had been rich, by Corellia’s standards, and titles, though a lesser line, and when he had met Leia, blue blooded and regal, practically a princess, he had fallen helplessly in love, consequences be damned. The title of Marquess was from her lineage, as was the vast bulk of their estates and wealth. In Corellia, he had visited within city often, had friends from the inner most, festering parts. He had seen a different kind of world in his childhood, one he could never forget, no matter how lavish and opulent his life had become. He had married Leia for love, and to her folly, she had married him for the same reasons. How much happier she might have been, he thought, watching his son wrestle with his conscience, if she had married within her own class. How much happier they might all have been.

“She was brave, crawling under that machine” Ben muttered, and Han smiled.

“Do not mistake bravery for desperation, son. Now come, we must meet Lord Tekka, and forget this melancholia”

 


 

 

Rey walked home slowly, along the river, afraid to go back to the orphanage before the whistle blew for the end of the day. She wandered along, looking down at the pristine handkerchief on her wrist, marvelling at something so fine. It wasn’t cotton, that she could tell, it was far softer, more akin to the touch of skin. Well, she corrected herself. Not her calloused skin, but how she imagined the skin of that fine lady might feel under her fingers, blistered as they were.

Carriage rumbled past ahead, and Rey saw she had wandered far, toward the market, and shopping avenues there. She knew of children from the orphanage who would go there sometimes and try to pick the pockets of the rich gentlemen and genteel ladies that shopped there. They weren’t usually very successful, and Rey never dared, in case she was caught. It was bad enough to be a river rat, never mind a pick-pocket too.

She stopped outside a fine shop, selling bows and ribbons, hats and bonnets of every colour and size. She was enthralled by the display, her nose pressing against the window, until the shopkeeper banged loudly on the glass and shooed her away. She shot off into the crowd, crossing the cobbled street, dodging around the animal and human waste that collected in the middle, and continued to walk on.

Ahead, she heard a trilling laugh, like that a bird might make, and followed its sound.

It wasn’t a bird, she saw with surprise. It was a girl, a young girl, perhaps even the same age as herself. That was where any similarity ended.

The girl was wearing a dark walking out dress, the material stiff and beautiful. She had a jacket on top, a fur lined muff ready to place her delicate hands inside. Rey shivered a little at the reminder that it was now cold enough to require such an item.

The girl’s eyes danced as she looked into the shop window before her, her curls bouncing with excitement, as they clustered around her round face, escaping her bonnet.

“But grandfather, I must have a bag. I have my own allowance, you know” she was saying, shaking a little fashionable coin purse at an older man who was stooped over beside her.

“Ah, Marla, you already have a currant bun!” he said indulgently. Marla crossed her arms and frowned.

“But I don’t want that horrible bun anymore, I want a bag of sweets, grandpapa” she entreated.

The old man chuckled.

“So, you shall have it I suppose, let’s go inside” he was saying, leaning heavily on his cane. They disappeared inside the shop, and Rey followed, peeking into the window to see where they had gone. The display of the shop was like no other. Sugared candies and hand boiled sweets filled bowls of every description and colour, and Rey could only stare as the girl directed her choices to be put into a large brown bag.

Rey hid around the corner of the shop as the pair came out. She didn’t know why she waited. They were so happy and carefree, she only wished to look upon them a little while longer, to forget the disappointment of the day.

The girl was laughing, and swinging her arms merrily. The bun dropped from her hands carelessly, and fell to the floor. Rey couldn’t imagine discarding the item on purpose, and so, before she quite knew what she was doing, she darted forward and grabbed the still warm pasty, the smell making her stomach grumble.

“Wait! Miss!” she called, hurrying after them. She found them just stopped ahead, next to a tall black carriage, the elder gentleman speaking at the door, and Marla eating candied fruit slices alongside.

“Miss – forgive me, but you dropped this” Rey said, slightly breathless at the excitement of speaking to the girl who seemed more doll than person. The girl’s eyes widened at the sight of Rey, her eyes sweeping down her body and back up, a look of wariness and something else appearing on her pretty face. Rey recognised the look as disgust, her heart falling, as the girl pulled on her grandfather’s sleeve.

“This beggar is speaking to me, grandfather” she cried, and the old man looked down in surprise, pulling his precious ward closer into his side.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, seeming angry. Rey swallowed, and looked down at the currant bun in her hand.

“The young lady dropped this, and I only thought to return it” she said plainly, and saw the old man’s hands loosen a little.

“Is everything well, Tekka?” a deep voice spoke from within the carriage, and Rey heard the sound of the door shutting at the other side.

“You think that I would eat something that had been on the street?” Marla breathed, her pale blue eyes widening almost comically, and then, as fast as could be, she reached out and smacked the bun right out of Rey’s hands. They all watched it tumble onto the dirty street. Rey wished terribly she had just hidden away and eaten it, instead of bringing this misfortune on herself. What had she expected? That Marla would be grateful and want to be her friend? That she would say thank you even. She cursed her own stupidity.

“Why, I don’t believe it. It’s you” a singular voice said, and Rey looked in her misery to find the young man from the factory standing beside her, having descended from the carriage. She bobbed automatically into a curtsey.

“My Lord” she said, cursing her luck. The man who had probably cost her a job, would probably now chastise her for approaching Marla, who seemed to be rather enjoying the scene. Rey eyed the bun on the floor, hoping against hope that no other street rat dropped in and stole it from her. It was hers now.

“Master Solo, you know this wretched creature?” the old man said and Rey stiffened to hear herself be described thus.

“Not really, I mean, we only just met, at Hux’ Cotton Mill. She hurt herself working and was dismissed for the day” Ben said, both men standing and watching her. Rey knew she should leave, but she wanted to take the bun, and was afraid to before their watchful eyes.

“Well, thank you child, for what it is worth, now get along with you” the eldest man said, before opening the carriage door and lifting his granddaughter in. As they disappeared from view, only the youngest, Ben, was left. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet, opening it, he shook out some coins and handed them to her. She stared at them warily before reaching out and snatching them, hiding them deep in her palm.

“Where do you live?” he asked curiously. Rey stared at him. He didn’t seem dangerous, but there had been girls who had disappeared before, girls like her, with no one to miss them. She shrugged, inching toward the bun on the floor, and deciding that this might be her last chance, seeing a group of pickpockets approaching them, snatched it off the floor and cradled it to her chest.

“Around” she said. He frowned at her, his eyes lingering on the pastry with distaste and then straightened.

“Well, please, go and eat something, something fresh” he said roughly, and turned to leave. As he did so, the pickpockets descended, hassling him, pushing their grubby hands at him, and he pushed them gently off and retreated to the carriage. A policeman rounded the corner, and blew his whistle and the boys were off, scurrying in all directions. Rey looked down at the floor and saw his bill fold there, dropped in their haste. She had hidden her precious coins under the dirty bun and retained them, she gloated with a sense of victory. She picked up the bill fold and hesitating only a moment, ran after the carriage that had just started to depart. She banged her fist on the door, and it stopped. The driver looked back at her

“What is it girl? Stay back or you’ll be tramped”

“This was dropped” she called, holding the bill fold high above her head, level to the window. The door of the carriage opened, and she saw him again, Ben, leaning out and looking at her curiously.

“The bulk and file dropped it, my Lord, before they could make off” she explained. He took it slowly, turning it over in his hands, his expression inscrutable.

“And you didn’t think to keep it?” he asked. Rey reddened immediately, her every thought, written on her face.

“Just for a moment, sir, but I didn’t. It wouldn’t be right” she said carefully. He watched her in silence a moment longer.

“Why is that?”

“Because it fairly bulges, my Lord, and you must need it.” He pained expression crossed his face at that.

“I see. That’s very honest of you. Where do you live? You might want to tell me”

“Niima orphanage” she answered this time. His face blanched a little.

“Well, I would like to offer a position outside the city. Country air would do you good. Our house is always looking for loyal hardworking staff. Would you promise to work hard?” he said, and Rey not believing the turn of events, simply nodded, frowning.

“But, if you please milord. I can’t be leaving the smoke.”

“Do you have family here?” Rey didn’t answer, her childish mind too overrun with thoughts and fear, worries and hopes.

“What’s outside the city, if you don’t mind me asking?” she said finally, unable to imagine a different place – the country as he referred to it. He looked confused as to how to describe something so fundamental for a moment.

“There are hills, rolling hills, and fields in every direction” he said slowly, taking in the ignorant expression on Rey’s face, unchanging.

“Have you been to Green park?” he asked, changing subject. She shook her head.

“Well, where you been?” he asked, growing impatient.

“Niima is south of the river, and the mill was on a Northern bank, I’ve travelled that stretch a good while, and a little around.” Rey said truthfully. It wasn’t surprising for a child so young to have travelled little, even in her own city. Transport was unobtainable for her, and walking was hard on a body always tired.

“You see that tree there?” he gestured toward a tired looking tree sitting in a manicured hedge outside a shop. She nodded.

“There are a million more like it in the country, some so tall they are bigger than houses. Everything is green and alive” he said softly, watching as Rey’s pinched little face gazed around her world, grey stone and dirty streets, dark looming sky and black shadows.

 “Would you like that?” he asked her. She wondered what Finn would tell her to do, and in that moment, seeing her best friend’s face in her mind, nodded solemnly. She stuck her hand out, mirroring the motions she had observed businessmen who came to the mill perform. She had no idea the picture she made, filthy beyond measure, blood stained, a misshapen currant bun in her hand, rags so thin in parts they were translucent, but as she rose her eyes to his, her chin set at an almost regal tilt, her little hand did not shake, as it waited for him, utterly unaware of the impropriety of the situation, a street urchin shaking hands with a gentleman, and a girl, no less.

The gentlemen in question merely removed his hat, as was the proper way to speak with a lady, leaned solemnly down, and shook on it.

Notes:

Hello! I'm so excited to share this new story with you.

As the warning above states, this is a dark story, the characters of the main couple are morally grey, especially Ben, tipping over into flat out baddie at times. Repeat - Ben Solo will be plain old bad - you will not like or support him - at all. If that characterisation doesn't appeal to you, please don't read and upset yourself!

Historical accuracy - efforts have been made to keep this as accurate as possible, however, I don't want to get bogged down with minutia as it inhibits my creativity. There shouldn't be anything glaringly obvious, so I claim artistic licence to a certain extent.

Titles - do my head in, as well as having to type them continually, and knowing the correct, appropriate title to use in each social occasion would take up all the limited time I have to write - so just go easy on me with the titles.

My favourite time period to write in, I enjoy the drama, as you might know, I have a thing for unbearable angst. I hope you give this one a chance!

It's bound to be long, I just can't help myself, but hopefully, you will like this version of Ben and Rey and stick with me.