#dune crossover

You took the book from him and opened to the page Ben had marked for you. Your eyes scanned over the text, mumbling a few words.

“Bene Gesserit,” you read faintly, your hand going to your neck. “Are they Nightsisters or something?”

“No, they’re a secret organization, almost like us, except it’s only women,” Ben explained with a shrug. “They have all kinds of cool abilities, including the one you have.”

Ben’s eyes drifted to your profile as you read over the page again. Reverence flickered in his gaze as he watched your lips silently form the words.

“The Voice,” you read aloud at the bottom of the page.

You felt a hint of resolution, but it was cut short as you turned the page to find it blank—or, rather, ripped out.

“What? Where’s the rest of it?” you asked, skimming through the book.

Ben sighed and took the book from your hands, his slender fingers grazing yours. “That’s all I could find. I searched everywhere, even sneaking into Luke’s study. Sorry, Y/N.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as his words faded into defeat. You wanted to understand this gift—this power. It set you apart from the others, possibly even from Luke. You got up, pacing slightly as you glanced back at the book.

“Do you think he ripped out the pages?” you asked, pausing mid-step.

Ben’s eyes snapped to you, one brow raised. “What? Why would he?”

“To keep it hidden. You said you had to sneak into his study, right?” you questioned, kneeling in front of him. “Luke only keeps important things in there. If your uncle ripped it out, it means he didn’t want anyone to find it.”

Ben hesitated, his posture stiffening under your scrutiny. You knew he could sense your longing for control over your abilities. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, you knew he’d help. He always did.

“My uncle has been acting differently lately...” Ben pondered, crossing his arms and creasing his forehead.

You shrugged, glancing around the forest to ensure no one else was near. Luke had been apprehensive lately, and you didn’t need to tap into the Force to feel that something was stirring in the unknown.

Your eyes fell on the smaller book in Ben’s hand, which he suddenly tucked away.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“It’s nothing,” Ben retorted, clutching the book tightly and avoiding your gaze.

You scrutinized him, noting the tension in his posture and the slight gulp in his throat.

“Let me see it,” you demanded.

“Y/N, it’s just my calligraphy book. You’ve seen it before,” he stammered, standing abruptly.

“Your calligraphy book is blue. This one is brown,” you countered firmly. “If it’s nothing, why does it matter?”

Ben’s eyes darkened into a glare as he sneered, “Y/N, it’s just a book. You wanted answers for your so-called gift, and that’s all I could find.”

He moved closer, invading your personal space. An electric pull seemed to spark between you, drawing you both into an unspoken standoff.

A sudden Force pull snatched the book from Ben’s hand, landing it in Khal’s grasp. Khal, a boy who often bullied Ben, grinned as he thumbed through the pages.

“Yeah, come on, Solo. Let’s see what’s in the book,” Khal taunted, standing beside you.

You glared at Khal as he began to read aloud in a mocking tone.

“Y/N and I were training today—” Khal read, attempting to mimic Ben’s voice in an exaggerated mockery.

“Shut up,” Ben cut him off, anger lacing his tone.

“She moves so gracefully and powerfully... Oh no way...” Khal chuckled, continuing to read, “I can’t look away. I don’t know if I want to be her... or want her…” “Stop it!” Ben shouted, his voice ripping into the air.

Your eyes snapped to Ben, and his gaze met yours in return. You knew it was forbidden for Jedi to form attachments, to have any tether to another. But in that moment, as you both locked eyes, something shifted in Ben’s expression. The mask of anger fell away, revealing vulnerability.

“Ben... I—” you gasped, but Ben’s hand shot out, gripping Khal and lifting him off the ground.

Khal flailed, desperately clawing at Ben’s wrist, but Ben’s face darkened as he held him suspended in the air, his eyes now glowing brighter than before.

“I told you to stop,” Ben warned coldly, his gaze scanning Khal’s terrified face. “I warned you.”

“I-I’m sorry...” Khal gasped, looking up at Ben with pleading eyes. Then he turned to you, “H-help me, Y/N! Make him stop!!”

You stood motionless, unsure whether to step between the two boys. But something clicked inside you as you glanced from Khal to Ben. With a sharp inhale, you tapped into the hidden power—the one that was dangerous, powerful.

“LET HIM GO!” you commanded, feeling the voices swirl in your throat.

Like a marionette, Ben released Khal, dropping him roughly to his feet. Khal scrambled up, stumbling over a fallen stump, his eyes wide with fear.

Ben’s eyes widened in shock and awe as he stared at you. “What did you do??” he asked, his voice laced with both trepidation and veneration. “How?”

You ignored Ben’s question, keeping your gaze fixed on Khal, whose fear was palpable.

“No, please, I won’t tell anyone! I swear I won’t tell Luke or anyone!” Khal pleaded, clinging to the dead wood for support.

Perhaps it was that protectiveness that sparked within you. You remembered finding Ben alone in a room once, his lip split open as he wiped the blood away. He never wanted to talk about it, but you knew... you knew who caused it. You placed a reassuring hand on Ben’s forearm—a small, silent understanding between you two. Your eyes locked onto Khal’s.

Taking a deep breath, you tapped into the power once more. “KNEEL.”

Without hesitation, Khal sank to his knees, trembling in his sweat-soaked clothes. Ben’s gaze shifted from the scene to you, filled with awe. He’d heard voices in his dreams, but this voice was different—ancient.

You spoke again, your voice carrying a dangerous authority, “BREAK YOUR THUMB."

A loud snap echoed through the forest, followed by a sharp, agonized cry.

Present Day, Planet: Rossak

You observed the younger Bene Gesserit training, watching them move with their blunt knives. You kept your focus on a few who showed potential, making mental notes to report to your superiors. There was a slight sense of pride in knowing you had mentored a few of them. They had also become your whisperers, reporting on the life you had left behind.

But there was nothing to be found.

A sigh escaped you as you pulled your gaze away, shifting your focus to the trainees. The hushed voices around you grew quieter as you entered the study, where your fellow sisters awaited. The familiar scent of ink and parchment reminded you of the academy—its large bookcases and the sense of peace it once gave you. But as you settled into the space, something shifted. A subtle ripple in the waters of your mind.

You stopped, a wave of nostalgia washing over you. A quiet tug. A whisper. The voice that carried it froze you in place. Ben’s voice...

A sudden, distant boom above the keep caused some of your sisters to pause in their tasks. One of the younger girls approached the window, looking out with curiosity.

“Lady Y/N...” she called, looking over her shoulder. “Have you ever seen a ship like that?”

You raised an eyebrow, walking over to the window with quiet steps. In the distance, a gunmetal black command shuttle stood, surrounded by a squadron of Finalizers. Standing at attention to receive them was Reverend Mother Gala, her face stoic and unwavering. But what caught your attention was the tall, imposing figure who emerged from the shuttle. His black robes billowed in the rain-tossed wind, giving him an ethereal, almost phantom-like quality. His helmet, obsidian black with silver accents, hid his face, but his body language spoke volumes. He bowed his head to the Reverend Mother before approaching her alone.

Your mind raced in different directions as you tried to piece together the mystery of this masked man.

“He specifically asked for you,” spoke Elder Sister Mya, her brown eyes following you closely as you walked beside her. “The Supreme Leader was very... insistent that it must be you. He refused other, more experienced sisters without a second glance.”

“Did he?” you murmured, glancing over your shoulder as you rubbed your thumb over your knuckle—a nervous habit you tried to break. You could see the troopers moving your boxes carefully toward the command shuttle.

“He knows you, Y/N,” Mya said, her voice soft but firm. “The Reverend Mother has sensed it, and so have I. But you have no idea who he is?”

“I have a few theories, but they’re far-fetched,” you replied, rolling the tension from your shoulders as you braced yourself to meet him.

“Hmm. Regardless, the Bene Gesserit and myself have approved your relocation within the First Order. Having one of our own in that fractured part of space is enough to pinpoint its weaknesses,” Mya continued as you reached the bottom of the stairs. “Remember... we Bene Gesserit do not hope—”

“We plan,” you finished for her.

With a steady, slow exhale, you set your mask of stoicism in place, your veil securely shielding you from the rain that cascaded from your robes. Through the thunder that rumbled across the sky, you heard faint footsteps approaching. Your eyes tracked them, seeing the Supreme Leader draw nearer. His steps echoed in the gray corridor, each one deliberate, imposing.

He was even more monumental up close. His broad shoulders and towering height gave him a predatory grace. He stopped in front of you, allowing you to take him in. His face hidden, but his body language clearly inviting your inspection. It was as if he was silently offering you a form of parity acknowledgment.

Power recognizes power.

A deep, metallic voice emerged from behind the mask, carrying a single, simple word.

“Come.”

Thought about these two when I watched Dune2 earlier this month, especially the part when Chani was displeased about Paul

I wonder which character in Dune fits MC the most🤔

You nodded, lowering your hood. He stayed quiet, his expression unreadable, yet you could feel his mind racing with thoughts. There it was again, that thrumming pulse through the Force, growing louder and making you stiffen slightly.

“May I speak?” you asked, meeting his gaze.

Kylo nodded silently.

“The Reverend Mother said you requested me specifically,” you noted, clasping your hands behind your back. “That you refused to see other members of my sisterhood.”

He turned to look at you, his gaze scanning you from head to toe. “Yes. What of it?”

You held his gaze firmly. Even with his blackened mask, you sensed his thoughts reeling, his heartbeat quickening slightly. “Why?”

“Why does every ruler need an advisor?” he said sharply.

You could almost sense his lips pressing into a thin line beneath the mask. “Everyone around me betrays me. They do nothing but betray me. They lie to me. They use me. I need to ensure loyalty within the Order. I cannot trust anyone from that side of the galaxy. That’s why I came here.”

There was something hidden in his tone, as though he wanted to say more but chose not to. It did not escape your notice. It was like reading a book—he was the book, and you were the reader. Kylo’s fist clenched tightly, sensing your mind probing his thoughts. His heartbeat pounded in your head, like a rapid drum in your skull.

“Enough,” he said sharply, making you pause.

His breathing quickened momentarily before he exhaled slowly, trying to calm his rage. Kylo stepped back, his hands reaching for his helmet. With a sharp hiss, he removed it. You gaped as your eyes took in Kylo’s unmasked face. Ben had aged—he was more of a man now. Whatever softness his features once held had hardened. His longer, darker waves framed his face, his aquiline nose and sharp jawline. His deep-set eyes, however, did not.

“You’ve changed,” you observed softly, stepping closer to him.

“So have you,” he said, placing his helmet on the table beside him. He looked down at you, his brown eyes examining you. “It’s been a while, yet I can feel the Force within you. I can feel how strong you’ve become.”

Seeing you after all these years had unsettled him. You met his gaze, a million thoughts swirling in your mind, but you lost yourself in him.

“Do they know who I am to you?” you asked quietly.

“No. No one knows,” he said, his eyes scanning your face again. “Y/N, you’re the only one I trust now. The only person I can confide in, knowing you will give me your true word.”

You nodded distantly, glancing at the door and then back at him. It was like seeing a ghost—a fleeting glimpse of the boy you once shared a bond with.

“You will be protected. My word is law. The First Order will learn to accept you,” he said, pausing as his gaze lingered on you.

There was no doubt in his voice. Kylo extended his gloved hand, a silent offer of trust. You met his gaze, using your abilities to detect any hint of deception.

“You swear it?” you asked.

“You have my word,” he whispered, his voice gentle but determined. He wouldn’t let any harm come to you—not when he needed you by his side.

You took his forearm in your hand, feeling his muscles tighten under your palm. It was a token of trust, a gesture you had shared before your exile. Kylo seemed to soften under your touch, and in a way, so did you.

“Supreme Leader, we have successfully docked,” said the familiar voice of the chrome captain from the other side of the door.

Reluctantly, Kylo pulled his arm away from your grasp. He replaced his helmet, issuing the command for the door to open.

“Let’s go.”

Kylo walked with you out of his quarters as the doors closed behind you, marching toward the unlatch door of the ship. There, you were greeted by a red-headed general and the chrome-clad captain.

“Supreme Leader,” General Hux addressed him, his gaze shifting to you with a veiled glare. Suspicion was written plainly across his face.

You had anticipated skepticism—if not outright hostility—from some of them. It was no surprise. They didn’t understand your role, your part to play. How could they?

Kylo stepped closer to Hux, narrowing his eyes at him slightly.

“This is my advisor, Y/N of Bene Gesserit,” Kylo said firmly. “She is under my protection, General, from this day forward.”

“As you command, Supreme Leader,” Hux replied, though reluctance laced his words.

Your eyes locked with the General’s briefly. He was an open book to you, his faults and insecurities laid bare. Reluctance was just one of his many flaws. Almost in cowardice, his blue eyes darted away from yours. Kylo on the other hand, gave him one last glare before walking past him. Quietly, you followed Kylo, taking in the cold, metallic corridors illuminated by sparse lights. This sector was a far cry from what you were accustomed to.

“You didn’t tell them about your new advisor?” you asked Kylo. “You’re already adding fuel to the fire.”

“I am aware,” Kylo said curtly, his strides calm but purposeful. “I don’t trust anyone—not even my knights.”

He stopped in front of his quarters, his hand hovering over the door’s control panel as he entered a code. With a soft swoosh, the doors opened, and he motioned for you to step inside. You walked in, your eyes scanning the dark, spacious room with its minimalist design. You removed your coat and hung it on a nearby rack, your gaze drifting to the room down the hall—his bedroom.

No. You are here as an advisor, not his concubine.

The sound of his helmet being removed drew your attention. But an unspoken tension lingered in the air—a personal matter between you and him. You had been exiled from Luke and had never reached out to Kylo through the force. Despite his maturity, Kylo’s grudges were like a garden he meticulously tended. His reticence was palpable as he watched you, his question blaring in his mind: Why didn’t you come back to him?

“I’ll have the troopers deliver your luggage to your bedroom down the right hallway. You’ll be staying here,” Kylo said, standing in one smooth motion. “My private room is off-limits, but you’re free to go anywhere else in this space.”

You nodded silently, glancing around at the large, well-appointed quarters. It was more luxurious than the shared room you had in the sisterhood, and for that, you were somewhat grateful. His tone was stern, a clear signal that he wouldn’t indulge in reopening old wounds. That part of him hadn’t changed—his unparalleled grudges and spite.

Kylo moved toward the door.

“Before you go, I need to know one thing,” you said, halting him in his tracks. “How did it feel? To see the light vanish from Snoke’s eyes…”

Your question hung in the air, and you could feel the storm of emotions it unleashed within him.

You sensed his dread, rage, shock, guilt—and most of all, satisfaction.

His body remained rigid, his back still turned to you.

“It felt…liberating,” he finally said, his voice low and steady.

“Good. You deserved your vengeance.”

The silence between you and him settled into something resolute—a quiet, almost relieved stillness. Kylo turned to face you again, his gaze lingering for a moment before he gave you a small nod.

“You should rest. I can sense your exhaustion,” Kylo said, his voice softer now.

A sense of resolution washed over you. You were just as powerful as he was now. You could only imagine what it would have been like to see him standing in the throne room, triumphant over his fallen master. Now, here you were, offering him your guidance—to be his whisper of power.

Kylo nodded once more, picked up his helmet, and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Your mind reeled with possibilities, strategies, and the weight of what was to come.

It was alleged night on the Finalizer, and you had prepared yourself for bed. Your belongings were still in the cargo hold, but that was the least of your concerns. What kept you awake was Kylo’s restlessness. Even from across the corridor, you could sense his turmoil—his mind roiling with unease as he tossed and turned, punctuated by frustrated grunts.

With a quiet exhale, you rose from your bed and slipped out of your room, making your way down the dim hallway toward his quarters. Trepidation gripped you as your hand hovered inches from the door. You hesitated, wondering whether you would be welcomed or turned away.

No, you reminded yourself. He is still your friend…your ally. And if things escalated, you were confident you could defend yourself. But you hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

As if in answer to your thoughts, the door opened silently. His bedroom was spacious and dimly lit, with a large bed at its center draped in black silken sheets. Your eyes adjusted to the low light, and you spotted Kylo. His back was to you, the pale expanse of his skin on full display, every muscle taut with tension.

“I could sense your unease,” you said softly.

“Of course you did,” he replied with a sigh, straightening himself in bed. “That’s why I opened the door.”

The weight of his uncertainty hung heavy in the room. His calm gaze didn’t match the chaotic storm of his thoughts. His eyes stayed fixed on you for what felt like an eternity, and you debated whether to step closer.

“It’s fine,” he said, rubbing his temples. The blanket slipped slightly, revealing the broad expanse of his scarred chest. “I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He gestured to the chair beside his bed, and you took a seat.

“You still sleep with a light on?” you teased, glancing at the small orb of light glowing faintly on the far side of the room.

“Not everyone can adapt to the dark as you can,” he retorted lightly, surprising you with the quip. “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve smashed my shins on the bed corners.”

The unexpected humor caught you off guard, a glimpse of something uncharacteristic yet nostalgic. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it reminded you of Ben. Even in the dim light, he could see your features clearly. His gaze lingered, studying you intently—your lips, your nose, your eyes. Every part of you seemed to fascinate him, and the emotions fluttering in his chest were ones he didn’t entirely understand.

“I need you…for something,” he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

His brown eyes locked with yours, and your heart skipped a beat. Your gaze flicked to the scars on his chest, the deep pink lines a testament to the battles he’d endured. You remained silent, wary of what he might ask but willing to listen. He sensed your uncertainty through the Force, mirroring his own inner turmoil.  He took a moment to speak again.

“Could you…find a memory of mine to lull me to sleep?” he asked. “I know you have the ability. I just need one good memory…I’ve had enough nightmares.”

He turned his head slightly to look at you. He looked so vulnerable to you, and it hurt that you were ordered to expose his weakness. A pang of empathy washed over you. Despite everything, he was still your friend. But the look in his eyes held something deeper—something unspoken.

“I’ll offer you one of mine,” you said softly.

You reached out, placing a hand gently on his scarred cheek, then on the side of his temple. His mind was a storm of distress, thrashing like a tempest at sea. Kylo closed his eyes, and for a brief moment, you felt him savor the warmth of your touch.

You delved into his mind and offered him a memory—a peaceful one. In it, you were in the desert, surrounded by golden dunes under a warm, gentle breeze. Kylo wandered through the sandy landscape, his breathing calm and measured.  It was a tranquil moment, serene and untouched by fear. This was a sanctuary, a stark contrast to the nightmares that plagued him.

When you withdrew your touch, you noticed the tension in his face had melted away. His body relaxed, sinking into the black silk sheets. His muscles eased, and he looked almost at peace. You brushed your fingers lightly over the scar on his face one last time before stepping away.

Tomorrow, you would be sworn back into the First Order. Tomorrow, you would step fully back into Kylo’s life.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed it. Tags still open if you want to be tagged in fic lmk.

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