Chapter Text
Chapter One
It was called the Ruby Court, but not for the obvious reason.
When one first set foot within the Court, they were immediately confronted by its immense size, its furthest ends lost to shadows and its vaulted ceilings supported by a forest of pillars. Despite the enormity of the space, the whole chamber was imbued with a sense of oppression, as though one was standing on the hand of a giant that was curling into a fist. Many first-time guests said that it was the Court’s decor that invoked such feelings of dread and claustrophobia; the pillars that marched down the length of the great chamber were carved from massive blocks of crimson marble shot through with veins of black and gold, and the floor, patterned in dizzying, often erratic mosaics of jet-black and red tile, gave visitors the disquieting illusion that they were treading across a field of broken glass that could tear through the sole of even the sturdiest shoe. The few items of furniture that lined the walls were crafted from wood so dark it appeared nearly black except where the light of a hundred lamps and thousands of candles reflected off the broad, bright red whorls and grain, creating the unsettling illusion that the wood was bleeding. Nearly everyone who passed through the Court remarked in hushed tones that they felt as though they had been devoured by some great beast as they nervously eyed the great red tapestries hanging from the walls, whose shimmering lengths made the chamber appear as though it was drawing a slow, deep breath.
It was a fitting metaphor to be sure. For the past half millennia, the Ruby Court served as the seat of power of the Snoke dynasty. The great chamber that housed it stretched the whole length of the ancient stone stronghold that sat at the foot of an craggy, ice-covered mountain range. Even at the height of summer the landscape surrounding the stronghold was barren and grey, inhabited by mangy wolves that hunted tough, sinewy jack rabbits that lived amongst the thorny heather and towering black pines. The narrow switch-back road lead from the main highway to the stronghold’s gate took a day to converse, and that was only if the traveler was smart enough to start at dawn; if not, it meant risking spending the night on the side of the mountain or continuing on in the dark, avoiding obstacles and sheer hundred-foot drops the whole way.
Upon reaching the end of the road, visitors were greeted by the sight of an enormous iron portcullis. The gateway was always half-raised, the lethal spikes clearing a man’s head by mere inches as he passed beneath it. It was little wonder that people felt that they were being swallowed whole as they entered Archduke Snoke’s ancestral home. And if all that was not harrowing enough, the guests still had the Ruby Court to contend with. Going from the stark bleakness of the landscape to the intense vibrancy of the Court was known to cause guests to feel faint or nauseous when entering, regardless if it was their first calling or their twentieth. It was all a raw display of all that the Snoke legacy coveted the most since rising to become to kingdom of Coruscant’s largest moneylenders and one of its most influential families; power, wealth, and above all, intimidation.
But such power came at a price, and that price was paid by the people who tried to stand in the way of the Snoke’s ascension within the king’s court, or who failed to uphold their end of an iron-bound contract. If the Ruby Court ever held another name, it had been long since washed away by the blood of those who fell from favor with the current head of the dynasty. That in turn gave rise to a plethora of macabre legends known throughout the kingdom and beyond: that the foundations of the stronghold were made from the bones of the indentured servants who built it; that blood would seep up from in between the Court’s original wood floorboards and ultimately forced a past Snoke to replace it with something easier to clean; that the worse offenders of a Snoke’s trust and generosity were sealed within the Court’s walls with their tongues cut out, and a miniscule peephole drilled through the brick and morter so they could look out on the world they would never be part of again. A countless number of tales branched off from those, telling of assassinations, executions, and public displays of torture. If the rumors that grew out from the Ruby Court could be given a physical form, it would be a great forest of black briar tree that ensnared everyone who crossed its border, their combined fear and respect for the men that sowed the seeds nourishing it, giving it strength.
Every so often, someone would rise from the faceless and sniveling masses to ascend the ranks of the Ruby Court. The climb was perilous, exhaustive and oftentimes exceedingly painful, and it was not uncommon for most people to lose their grip and fall long before they came close to the top. But those who endured the trials were rewarded by a life of unprecedented luxury as one of Snoke’s esteemed courtiers: Extravagant living quarters and priceless clothing; decadent feasts and access to the finest new entertainment in the kingdom; a never-ending flow of wine, brandy, and spice; and, of course, the innumerous bedroom talents of the Ruby Court, whose infamy was second only to its tales of violence. The only thing required of them in return was their complete loyalty to the current Snoke. Every command was to be obeyed, every request fulfilled without question. And every piece of information, every whispered rumor, was relayed to Snoke, and Snoke alone.
The right information could be worth its weight in gold. Seduction and an edge of ruthlessness - two traits Snoke’s courtiers were famously known for - were invaluable tools within the Court, but the most skilled of the courtiers were those who could glean meaningful intel from gossip and make people surrender their secrets without their query realizing they were doing so. And none could do it as well as Kylo Ren.
It took Kylo Ren six years to climb up the ranks of the Ruby Court, sacrificing blood and dignity as he fought tooth and nail to vie for Snoke’s attention among the unworthy. But the struggle had been worth it, and since his debut in the Court the information Kylo was able to obtain from various sources lead to the disgrace and downfall of two noble houses and the absorption of a highly profitable but poorly managed silk mill into Snoke’s financial empire. People learned to fear Kylo almost as much as his benefactor, warning one another of the dangers of earning the attention of the Court’s silver-tongued devil. Yet despite that they still fell willingly into bed with him, laying bare all he wanted to see, both figuratively and literally.
Kylo Ren swirled the deep red brandy around the belled curve of the tumbler in her hand. Raising the glass to his lips, he gazed out at the crowd of aristocrats and merchants milling about the Court over its rim. It was the eve of the summer season. The snow and ice had at least released its hold on the mountain roads, and Snoke was hosting his first official Court session of the year. Nearly everyone in attendance was here to seek some sort of financial favor of Snoke: petitions put forward for trivial manners such as loans, a sponsorship for a new endeavor, or a profitable marriage arrangements for their children.
Then there was the business dealings of a far more sensitive nature; the ones that required a request of a special audience with Snoke and were made behind closed doors. In the deep underbelly of society, it was known that if someone needed something taken care of, Snoke was the man to come to. Conditions were laid out, prices were negotiated, and no one in the kingdom, including the Archduke’s own sworn enemies, would be none the wiser. Snoke gave his client his word that no one outside the chamber would even know of what transpired there. And he was sincere; the only people who knew of the contracts were the Archduke, the one petitioning for the favor...and, of course, the courtier who listened to the whole transaction as it happened.
To a courtier of the Ruby Court, the start of the summer season marked an event of their own. It was a fresh opportunity to rise in Snoke’s favor - or lose it and suffer the consequences. It was all hinged on how well each individual courtier handled the contract assigned to them. The more Snoke trusted a courtier, the more difficult the task to complete. And every year, Kylo completed his with flawless efficiency.
This year, though, had thus far proven to be different. The Court session was almost concluded, and Snoke had yet to summon him to his private audience chamber. All he got instead was an order delivered to him by a servant that Kylo was to await the Archduke in the main hall.
So wait he did. And after nearly two hours of doing nothing but waiting, Kylo’s patience was thoroughly frayed. It was due only to years of rigid self-discipline that kept his foul mood from boiling over, concealing all he was thinking and feeling under layers upon layers of control until not even an iota showed. One of the first lessons that was learned upon coming to the Court was that everything one did was under constant scrutiny: every action observed, every word and expression weighed and measured. And he, one of the Archduke’s elites, would be watched more closely than ever for any slip of character or cracks in his composure. If the rumors fluttering between the red columns held any truth to them, this year he had to be more careful than ever. His very future depended on it.
“Kylo Ren.”
Kylo’s spine reflexively stiffened at the sound of his master’s voice. He swore that no matter how long he was at the Court, he would never get used to the way Archduke Snoke materialized from the shadows the way he did. At least he had long since trained himself to not react, which was more than he could say about most other people who suddenly found themselves in the Snoke’s presence.
The old man was a head shorter than Kylo, his thin frame swathed in robes of heavy grey velvet so dark they were nearly black, accented by swatches of red silk. Despite his appearance one was quick the learn that Snoke was anything but frail. No one knew exactly how old the Archduke was - there were rumors of course, but the only thing anyone agreed on was that he was older than anyone in living memory - but his back was still ramrod straight, his eyes as clear and cold as a frozen lake. Like all the Snokes that came before him, he had an air of authority that commanded the attention and respect of everyone in the room, regardless if it was five or five hundred. The only thing that outnumbered the dark tales of how the Court was the speculations of how Snoke got his scar. The mark bisected his face from the top left-hand side of his skull down to the right corner of his mouth, and was so deep that it appeared that whatever inflicted the blow did so with the intention of cleaving his head in half. The result left his features so twisted and distorted that most people couldn’t look at him for more than a few minutes at a time. The most infamous story about Snoke was that when death failed to strike him down the first time it never returned to finish the job, and sometimes even Kylo found himself believing it.
“What news, my apprentice?” Snoke asked him. The voice that emerged from his emaciated throat was unexpectedly deep, like thunder heard from the bottom of a mountain ravine.
“Only what’s to be expected after a long winter. Births. Deaths. Who made the most notable impression at the solstice galas. The occasional attempted murder. Nothing of relevance to us.”
“Do you ever miss it, Ren? A simpler life with simpler problems among simpler folk?” Snoke began to walk down the length of the hall, and Kylo immediately fell into step beside him. The nobles and merchants meandering among the columns studiously ignored the Archduke and his courtier as they passed, keeping their attention wholly on each other and their conversations. Snoke had no tolerance for eavesdropping, no matter how unintentional, and anyone caught turning an ear in his direction was liable to lose it.
“The only regret that I have is that I did not leave sooner,” Kylo answered without hesitation. “I will always be grateful to you and the Court for giving me the liberty to become what I knew I should be, and not force me into a mould of imposed expectations.”
Snoke’s mangled lips curled into the closest thing he could manage to a smile. “Clever boy. In all your years of service not once have you led me to question your loyalty. Now I have one last task for you to complete for me.”
Kylo felt his curiosity pique, but he did not let it reflect on his face. He had been with the Court long enough to know that damn near everything was a test, and he did not doubt for a moment that Snoke was attempting to bait him to stray off-topic. “You flatter me, my Lord. May I inquire as to the nature of the task?”
“What do you know of Unkar Plutt?”
“Not much more than what I’ve heard others speak of. Largely that he’s not worth the dirt he stood on before iron ore was discovered on the spit on land he owns. That he looks like a diseased toad and smells like a pig carcass, and those are some of the more eloquent descriptions.”
Snoke chuckled, a sound that made Kylo’s skin crawl under his robes. “Crass, but not untrue. Normally I would not be concerned with those of Plutt’s ilk but he has forced my hand. The iron vein he is squatting upon has been tested to be the purest quality discovered in the past century, and has therefore garnered the attention of everyone of significant political and economic prowess in Coruscant, hoping to purchase his mines for whatever gain they seek. But my sources tell me that he has so far rejected all offers. It is not just money he wants; it’s a title.”
“Bottom feeders,” Ren scoffed. “They trips over a single piece of good fortune and then believes that the whole world owes them for it.”
“That is most certainly true, but we cannot risk someone gaining control of such a valuable natural resource to be used in any way they please. In particular, the Marchioness Organa, whose influence over the king has been growing despite my best efforts.” Snoke’s small but piercing eyes flickered to Kylo’s face the way they always did when the Marchioness was mentioned, but as always, Kylo kept his expression flawlessly stoic. A test; everything is always a test. Evidently Snoke was pleased with Kylo’s lack of reaction because he continued on: “I will not give him the title he is seeking. Instead I will give him something that will guarantee both the mines and his fealty to me: a wife. A woman with loyalty to the Ruby Court and ultimately to me.”
“A wise solution, my Lord. Have you made a selection of whom will be bestowed with that honor?” Already in his mind Kylo was assessing who among his peers would be best to fit that role. Pretty, plump Zehra maybe, who could manipulate a man into doing just about anything with her mouth alone. Or pixie-like Shakti, whose innocent charm almost started a war between two distinguished houses.
“No,” Snoke said, almost as if he could read Kylo’s thoughts. “Plutt may be a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them. I will not risk him becoming suspicious of my intentions by sending him a seasoned member of the Court.”
“What do you have in mind then, my Lord?”
“Find me a girl, Ren. Teach her the ways of the Court and all she needs to know to keep her future husband happy and malleable in our hands. There is a new shipment of servant girls being delivered from the Theed workhouses tomorrow morning. Hopefully one of them will be about to suit our needs. I need her ready for presentation to Plutt by the autumn season. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly, sir,” Kylo said.
“I know you will not disappoint me. If I am particularly pleased by your work, I can almost guarantee that your reward will be beyond any that has been bestowed upon my courtiers before.”
“Upon my word, I shall not fail.”
Snoke swept away without another word to be immediately swallowed by the deep shadows of the hall. Kylo did not release the breath he was holding until the last of the Archduke’s robes disappeared from sight. There was no question of it now; Snoke was preparing to chose a successor, and by his implications Kylo was one of his top choices. The revelation should have thrilled him, but it was dampened by the upcoming task Snoke saddled him with. It was certainly an odd one for him to receive. Surely someone like Phasma, who specialized in training submissives, would be better suited for it. But if Snoke believed him to be the one best matched for his job, then who was he to question his master? Besides, that was an issue he could worry about tomorrow. Tonight there was far more pleasant business that required his attention.
She swept through the gloom of the Ruby Court like a vision, her gold-and-ivory gown resplendent against the scarlet backdrop. Unlike most of his peers, Kylo had a good relationship with the aristocrat who bought his virginity after his debut. The Duchess Tila Mott - then newly widowed by her husband’s mysterious death - had been a generous and patient lover, and the memory of her copper thighs wrapped around his pale hips was one he would forever cherish. Her bright green eyes met his and a brilliant smile bloomed across her face. Kylo could not help the small smile he reciprocated.
“Kylo Ren,” she greeted him in her husky voice as he approached. She held out her hand for him to kiss, the soft kid-hide glove tickling his lips. “How is it possible for you to grow even more handsome since the last time I saw you?”
“Whatever the reason, it applies to you tenfold.” The Duchess Mott was at least five years Kylo’s senior, possibly more. The onset of age was beginning to touch the corners of her eyes, but she was none the less radiant for it. Today topaz chips sparkled in her tightly curled back hair, and her full breasts looked to soft and decadent pushed up by her corset that the temptation to lean down and lavish his tongue over them in full view of everyone was almost too strong to resist.
“I sent you an invitation to my solstice gala, hoping you’d finally attend this year. Imagine my disappointment when you didn’t show. Why do you keep spurning me so?” She pouted, sending a bolt of desire straight to his loins.
“My apologies, my Lady. My attentions were required here by my master. Otherwise I would have braved that horrific blizzard and certain resulting frostbite to attend.”
The Duchess laughed. “Well, when you put it that way, we certainly can’t have specific bits turning black and falling off on us, can we? It’s no matter now. I brought a gift to you in any case.” The duchess looked behind her and motioned for a servant Kylo had not noticed before to come forward. She removed the lid of the long, thin box he was holding, revealing two daggers nestled in a bed of paper. The curved blades were so brightly polished they seemed to be their own lightsource, and the handles were intricately carved ivory inlaid with gold.
“Are they not lovely?” The duchess asked, ghosting her fingers over one of the blades. “Naboo, ninth century. I saw them at an auction and immediately thought of you. Do you like them?”
“They’re exquisite,” Kylo politely lied. He had no use for such frivolous items - these blades would shatter like glass if he tried to inflict a blow upon even the weakest armor - but decorum required that he said nothing against a gift received by a client. “I don’t know how I repay you for such a gift.”
“Oh, I can think of a few ways,” the Duchess Mott replied, arching an eyebrow. She replaced the lid on the box and reached out to take hold of the lapels of Kylo’s robes, pushing herself up to her toes so her lips were even with his ear. “I had a dream last night about your tongue and I haven’t been able to think of anything since. It’s like an itch I can’t scratch. Will you help me relieve it?”
Kylo allowed the duchess to lead him out of the Court and toward the direction of his bedchamber. Tomorrow’s problems would be worried about then; for now, he was going to enjoy the night for all it was worth.