You are Not Alone

It’s just a mind trick. It’s a figment of your imagination. 

Qi’ra knew better than to listen to the little reasonable voice that echoed falsely. Something in her knew these strange visions were beyond just dreams or powerful mind tricks. Something in her body knew. For another moment, she remained silent. Her grip on the pistol at her side was white-knuckled.

An alien had arrived with a key to the space next door. He passed them both in the hallway, pausing to look at the idle weapons in each woman’s hand. Qi’ra shook her head and gestured for Rey to follow her back into their own room.

“A sense of humor,” she agreed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Rey, she noticed, had Dryden’s tall slenderness. Even stranger, she shared Qi’ra’s chestnut hair and eyes.

Pull yourself together, she chastised silently, blinking away the wetness that reached her eyes. “So now what? If you still want to leave without me to go find Han, I can’t let you do that. I feel like I sort of have an obligation to make sure you don’t get killed… or something.“ 

Her eyes lowered to the saber in Rey’s palm. “Though clearly you’ve got things covered.”

Narrowed eyes watched the alien pause, her muscles tense and ready to spring into action should the creature try anything. Before he got a chance, Qi’ra was motioning her to come inside her room, and though Rey would rather go anywhere else, she knew she had to follow.

Her body did not relax in the slightest as she walked forward, eyes trained steadily on the other woman. Her jaw rolled when she caught the wetness glinting in Qi’ra’s eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it had come. Then she was speaking, and Rey’s ire began rising. 

“The future,” snarled the woman. She was trapped. Something more than the fatal end of a saber was pressing her flush against the wall. That strange energy, the Force as she had heard it called, was strong in this girl. “You expect me to believe you’ve come all this way from the future? I know people far more powerful than you, love, and they wouldn’t attempt such things in their wildest dreams.”

It had been a waste of time to follow this girl all the way to Tatooine. Good luck finding your way back to wherever it was without a ship. Qi’ra wanted nothing more than to leave. She gave a nod in truce, her face still stained with a grimace.

Before the lightsaber could be lowered, memories flashed brightly across Qi’ra’s mind…

The little girl, Rey, clinging to her cape and eyeing Darth Maul with fear. Boarding the ship in Jakku after abandoning the girl. Heartbreak like she had never known possible. Tearfully reporting to Dryden Vos that their daughter was dead.

“I’m so sorry,” Vos said, grasping Qi’ra’s wrist with a frown. “Look at the bright side. Things will be so much easier. That child was your weakness.” He stroked her face and the feeling of wanting to kill him was tangible. 

Once more she saw that little sleeping face she had left in an alleyway…

And then the memories subsided. Not memories… they weren’t anything that had happened in her lifetime yet. Visions maybe. Or perhaps some terrible mind trick. Their vividness scared her. 

Wide-eyed, Qi’ra looked to Rey. 

“You...” the word was punctuated with a sharp choke. The visions the Force had gifted her with the night before were piecing themselves together, for Rey was shown the exact same vision as Qi’ra. Her lightsaber retracted, and her arm fell limply to her side, the hilt gripped so tight her knuckles were white. 

Mother... She could not speak the word aloud, though merely thinking it caused the Force to bubble pleasantly around her, as if offering confirmation. 

An array of emotions twisted her gut, most of them unpleasant. Anger, confusion, and hatred mixed with hope, relief, and understanding. She finally knew, without a doubt, why she’d been left behind as a child. Why her parents had never returned for her, even though she’d desperately hoped they would. 

She wanted to flee; to run as far away as her legs could take her, but she stayed rooted in place. Her eyes flicked over Qi’ra’s face, noticing the small similarities they shared. 

Although Rey is right, Ben knows deep within him that she is right, it doesn’t stop the squeamish feeling that settles within his gut. There was a reason that his uncle had come to this island on this planet and hid himself away for so many years. There was a reason why even he, who had only even entertained the shadow of darkness as a thought for a moment, had let that be enough to remove him from the flow of the force altogether. While he cannot stay here forever, he will not stay here forever, the other half of her statement is what gives Ben pause.

With a tilt of his head down, brown eyes meet her hazel ones and he knows that this is not a conversation he can run from. Although he is injured and would like to go lick his wounds in private, she is like his shadow. She’ll just follow behind. “Maybe it’s not safe for me but it might be safer for everyone else, Rey.” The moment the words leave his lips, Ben knows that she will argue so he lays the hand from his good arm gently on her shoulder. “I can still help you. I can still help train you and train others, there’s so much that I remember from my uncle and the others at the academy. I can still be useful.” And that’s part of the worry, isn’t it? That she won’t feel like she needs him if he isn’t?

Along with their training improving his physical state, their time spent in close proximity to each other was giving him the knowledge on how to read her, as well. She knew she often wore her heart on her sleeve, but he was quickly learning how to predict her feelings far before she’d even begun to form them. As much was proven when he quickly placed a hand on her shoulder, rebutting her argument before it could form on her tongue about his first point. 

“Ben...you’re not useful to anyone if you’re dead,” she protested, brow furrowing. “When we go to Yavin IV, and then eventually to my friends, we don’t know what’ll happen. You cutting yourself off from the Force isn’t good for anyone.” 

“I don’t mind another scar,” Ben answers truthfully and maybe part of him feels that he deserves more than the ones he currently wears. He’s done so much after all. But even without the sharp focus and heightened senses that the force gave him, Rey wore her heart on her sleeve and he could feel the onslaught of anger and frustration before she even opened her mouth. “I told you, Rey, I’m fine.” And it wasn’t like him to snap but he didn’t want to answer these questions, didn’t want to see the look in her eyes when she realized why he’d failed to block or slip beneath her blade in the way he had so easily on the remnants of the death star.

Ben pulls himself up and probes at the cut. He’s lucky she didn’t take his blasted arm off. That was the one thing he had going for him that the other Skywalker men hadn’t, Luke had tried to make light after Ben had found out about his grandfather, he didn’t have any robotic parts. With Rey’s hit he’d nearly joined the others in a replacement limb.

“Rey–” he says softly as he sits up and pushes himself up off of the ground with a wince. With his better hand, he brushes off the grass and debris from his clothes. “I–” he stands there not sure what to say but he looks away all the same. “Maybe,” he finally answers. “It hasn’t felt the same since…” but it’s not Rey’s fault. He doesn’t want Rey to feel guilty about his decision. Ben doesn’t. It was the right choice, whatever the consequences. 

Her gaze hardened at his snap, jaw rolling. Though she could hardly blame him for being short with her, after she’d nearly taken his arm off, it still rankled. Fine wasn’t good enough for her, not when it came to him, but what could she do?  She couldn’t force him to accept her help, but watching him wince as her righted himself, face screwing up in pain, left her feeling useless. 

Eyes roving over the cut on his arm as he inspects it, her gut churns. From the hesitancy she feels rolling off him in the face of her question, she knows before he admits it that her guess was correct. He’d cut himself off from the Force. Slowly, she rises to her feet as he does.

Rey’s footwork spoke of her past in defending herself on Jakku when needed. She had not spent enough time with Master Luke to learn much in the way of wielding a lightsaber and even with her training under his mother, that was limited as well as she was not well enough to spar herself any longer (nor could the Resistance chance her injuring herself or over-exerting herself). But Ben had spent over ten years in training with Master Luke and other apprentices, and years longer then with the Knights of Ren. There were any number of styles and tactics that he understood though in truth without the rage fueling him, he was far more considered in his movements. Still, it brought a smile to his face to see the way that she progressed and grew, how each day she could do something more or better than she had the day before. Rey was a quick study.

“One more,” Ben agrees. If he had been stretching his senses, if he called and they responded, then he would have anticipated her next motion. He could see it in the flex of her muscles and the flick of her eyes but even a fraction of a fraction of a second to late mattered with the deadly weapons. The cut was deep but given the blade of energy it cauterized the wound even as it cut, the only thing that kept him from bleeding all over the ground. The lightsaber fell from his hand and rolled away as his knees buckled and he fell backwards. Ben managed to catch himself on his good hand but the fall was hard and he rolled his wrist.

He let out a string of curses that R2D2 would have been proud of as he laid back in the grass to catch his breath.

“I-I’m fine,” he murmured as he exhaled through his teeth. “It’s not… it’s fine it’s not you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The moment her hand touched him and she began to heal him, Ben reached out and took her hand to move it away. She had repaired some of the wound but he shook his head before she could finish; he would have a gouge like scar but he would be fine. The pain was already receding. “You don’t have to do that…  it was an accident. I’m fine, really, Rey. See, I’m okay. These things happen.”

The hand that had been reaching out, steadily healing him, balled into a fist when he pushed it away. Her eyes flew to his, flashing with indignation. How could he not let her heal him? On Jakku, a wound of this size more often than not meant death would soon follow; to squander away a chance to heal it was a crime. And, of course, underlying the instincts that came with her upbringing, was her concern for him. “I don’t want to be the reason for another scar on your body,” she admitted, her throat constricted. Hadn’t he already suffered enough? No matter how far he moved into the Light, his past in the Dark would always be etched into his skin. Same as hers.

“These things don’t just happen, Ben,” she snapped, her temper flaring at his calm dismissal. Her melodramatic fretting was quickly replaced by anger. Upset was written clear as day on the color rising to her cheeks. “Why didn’t you block me? Couldn’t you feel me coming through the...the...” she trailed off, sitting back on her haunches as understanding struck her like a lightning bolt. 

One of many decisions is firmly made that day– that the two will remain on Ahch-To for a little longer before eventually leaving for the remains of the Jedi Temple. At some point, the information that he has about the First Order will be given to her friends. It’s something she can start straight away, slipping in small bits of information, establishing a fact that the intel is in fact good. Where it comes from will not matter because her friends will trust in her– and later, when a few items have proven to be invaluable, perhaps they can then reveal the source. It’s a well thought out plan Ben has, one that establishes a willingness to assist, trust and ability to help in a way that others cannot so that way the ability to help the cause going forward (his mother’s cause) is not overshadowed by the fact that Ben Solo was one Kylo Ren. They could have gone straight to her friends– and Ben was willing– but her trepidation about the whole thing meant Ben was happy enough to suggest the alternative.

The sun hung high in the sky at mid day. In truth, he’d been up before dawn as sleep was something he struggled with; there were things he saw when he closed his eyes, still, things he deserved to see and to feel but they haunted him. Eventually, worried about waking Rey, he’d conceded that sleep was something he was finished with for the evening and began his daily chores. They were finished before Rey had poked her head from her dwellings and greeted him. They’d been training for a few hours, starting with meditation before moving onto running a course she had set whilst under Luke’s tutelage on the island, and eventually moved onto sparring with lightsabers. They were borrowed, neither truly belonging to either of them, but they were perfect for their purpose.

Dark hair fell across his eyes though the majority of it was tied back, a few of the wisps were too long to stay free of his eyes and yet too short to stay tied up in the knot at the back of his head. Rey was light on her feet and as the smaller target was at an advantage in that there was less of her to have to guard. On the other hand, Ben had the superior reach because of the length of his arms as well as the better stamina from practically a lifetime of practice in prolonged encounters. But he was also tall and broad meaning there was so much more of him to have to defend and so much more of him for her to get even the smallest of hint in. With his breath coming just a little faster, he dodged out of the way and blocked her blow, directing her blade up and away from him. The island was ablaze with life, the force practically sang the connection was so strong as they danced along the cliff ledge, but Ben withheld. He did not reach out, did not attempt to touch it any more than he was naturally aware of it; it responded in ways that made him dizzy and confused in the dark of night when he attempted and in truth, he was not sure if trying was a good idea.

“You’re getting better,” he smiled at Rey. Each day she was able to last longer, not tiring as quickly. But that also meant that she was getting closer and closer to hitting their intended target.

“Again,” she announces through labored breath, pitching herself forward. The sizzle of their lightsabers meeting is barely audible over the roaring of the waves around them. Their careful dance was progressing smoothly today.  Every day, their strength and stamina grew. Kylo Ren had always been a fierce, near-violent opponent. Ben Solo’s form and the style in which he flung his blade held whispers of his past, but there was a measure of thoughtfulness that had not been present before. Each micromovement was calculated and purposeful, thought out to the ninth degree. 

Her muscles protested as her blade crashed against his again, but she had not fatigued entirely yet. She knew better than to push herself too hard. After all, these weapons were deadly regardless of whether they were being used for battle or for training. To overwork herself would be to put both their lives at danger.

“One more round,” she ground through gritted teeth, rapidly blinking away the sweat that fell from her brow to her eyes. Ben was in an equally mussed up state; cheeks red from exertion and hair flung about wildly over his forehead. Raising her saber high, she reached out with the Force, anticipating his block. It came, and she used the momentum to spin around and aim her blade for his upper arm, where surely he would block her again.

He didn’t. 

Who is he to judge? Everything that Rey does is considered and while Ben may have found making decisions heart-first instead of head-first, he could appreciate why she did that now. There was no ulterior motive, always the best intentions at hand. If Rey had not felt it was the right time then he would trust her. “Perhaps I can help,” he says after a moment. “The largest battle may have been won but there will still be remnants. I know where the strongholds are, the key players and investors. No one knows where I am or what has happened to me– no one from the First Order knows what has become of me either.” Ben leaves the idea hang in the air to allow Rey to think about it. “If you think… if I can offer them something maybe they’ll be more open to the idea of me.” It goes without saying that Rey, as the remaining Jedi, is one they would likely trust.

As they sit, curious porgs make their way along the cliff face. It is not long until they’re flirting with the idea of approaching the two, Ben is half certain what remains of Rey’s bun is about to be undone by a particularly brave porg that is eyeing her up from the side. Uncrossing his legs, he makes a shooing motion with his foot that sends them squeaking and flying away before turning his attention back to her. “You want me to return to Yavin IV?” It feels fitting, that Ben’s story should resume where it ended. Fear pulses through his veins as he wonders if he is ready to face such a thing and yet he knows as soon as Rey says it that it makes sense. A jedi does not run from fear and he’s run for far too long.

“I’ll go wherever you go.” Ben sits a little straighter with that decided. “I think… wherever we go I’d like to build something. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for all that I’ve destroyed but it feels like a place to start.”

As if pulled by a thread, she sits up straight as a board at his suggestion that he may help. “That information would be invaluable,” she muses, eyes alight. His knowledge could be used as insurance, and a bargaining chip, if they are discovered too soon. Or, much more appealingly, they could bring that information willingly to her friends and earn Ben a healthy portion of trust. Though she fretted over whether or not it would be enough. 

She glanced over as Ben shooed away a porg, smiling softly. Raising her gaze, she peered out over the great landscape before them. There would be time to fret over the details. They would not be leaving this island for a while; not until the galaxy stabilized itself. They would spend that time resting, recovering, and building their strength.

A wash of fear, ice-cold and gut-twisting, comes to her through the bond. She quickly looks back to Ben, squeezing his hand gently. Perhaps she shouldn’t have suggested they investigate the contents of her vision. It was too soon-- but before her panicked thoughts could continue, his expression relaxed. His posture changed, and she blinked owlishly at his declaration.   

Ben is aware of the grip she has on his hand, and the way in which he returns it. Perhaps it is a thing that he should have already let loose, something he should not allow himself to indulge, but the longer that Rey continues to return his hold the harder it is to set down. There is a comfort there, a physical manifestation of the connection that already exists between the two of them, and it acts like an anchor when everything else feels like it is a dream. But Rey’s hand, calloused and scarred but strong holding tight to his own is real. Ben knows that without question.

Overlooking the ocean, the landscape is breathtaking. The verdant green of the vegetation, the various species of trees and flowers that have grown in their gnarled but vibrant way despite the wind, the colour of the water as it crashes against the shore– all of it is beautiful. None of it is anything like Rey, seated next to him, speaking animatedly about her friends. It’s not difficult to understand that they are her family in a way that Palpatine could never be. The Sith Lord might share some of the blood that ran through her veins but he shared none of the light that existed at her center nor the strength of will to accept those other parts of herself and not allow them to define her. Part of him twinged with guilt; Ben was keeping her from her chosen family. Surely they missed her, wished her to stay and she was… she was here with him.

Babysitting, he thought to himself. The thought might have soured his gut if it weren’t for the way she caressed the back of his hand with her thumb. It was gentle but firm and he might have even called it affectionate. It unwound the internal tensing.

“What I want to do?” Ben asked, eyes lifting back to Rey’s. “I thought… I mean your friends…” Surely they wouldn’t let him go. Although he may have been the general’s son, he had also been the Supreme Leader. His actions were still his own, whatever influences might have manipulated him. “They don’t know about me, do they?” There is no heat behind his words, no judgement. They would have arrested him if they did, followed her and restrained him until a trial– they were the good guys after all, execution on sight was more First Order than New Republic. Rey has done him a kindness to even give him this much time. “I don’t want to run away anymore, Rey. I don’t want to hide or pretend to be someone I’m not.. I think if I try,” he doesn’t have the heart to finish it. I’ll lose myself again, echoes through their bond. I don’t know if I’ll come back this time.

Slowly, she shook her head. She looked away, though not out of shame. He was not upset over the fact that she hadn’t told her friends about him, so she had no reason to feel ashamed for hiding him from them. Even if he had been cross with her, she wouldn’t be contrite. She hid the knowledge of his survival in order to buy them time. While she could accept that he had to answer for his past crimes, she wouldn’t allow him to be killed. 

“Tensions are high right now. Everything that remains of the First and Final Order is going to be purged from the galaxy. They would take one look at you and only see Kylo Ren. They would want to destroy you.” Her gut twisted harshly, nausea bubbling in her throat. She swallowed it down with a shake of her head.

Gazing through her lashes, she watched his face twist as he tried to explain. She didn’t want him to run, either. When he floundered, unable to finish his sentence aloud, she nodded her understanding as the words filtered through the bond.

She didn’t want him to run, or hide, or change who he was, but he couldn’t simply waltz up to her friends and declare himself on their side now. They needed protection. Or, at least, insurance. If he could prove himself to be better alive than dead, then they stood a chance. A memory surfaced, and her brow dipped.

Something passes between them, Ben feels it instinctively as much as it hums between the bond that they share. He doesn’t have a word for what it is exactly other than a hyper-awareness of their close proximity, him of her, and he feels it returned: her of him. It’s both exhilarating to have someone look on at him like that, to have it returned is something else entirely. But it also leaves his palms sweating and his mouth dry and Ben entirely unsure of himself so he changes the environment entirely so he doesn’t need to do… whatever he is maybe supposed to do next.

“I’ve always felt more sure on my feet when I wield it.” Ben confesses through a laughter. For his stature, not just his height but also in the width of his shoulders and chest, he has always felt less sure of himself. As Kylo Ren that feeling subsided and being physically intimidating was amplified through the theatrics of the mask akin to his grandfather’s. “Some of us had to work on being spritely because our build isn’t naturally built for it.” When her hair slips out of her signature buns and is caught in the wind Ben can’t help but to stare. It’s beautiful the way it dances. “I think they’ve taken a liking to you,” he teases. Although his own hair is tied up to keep it from his face as he works it isn’t needed in the moment so he undoes it and offers it to her.

There is much that Ben has yet to explore on the island but he felt a little like he might be intruding in her absence. This was her sanctuary and whilst he took liberties to ingratiate them to the locals (although it appeared Rey would need to put a little work into that herself; he would help) he wasn’t sure how long he would be staying. How long she would want him to stay. He takes a seat, cross legged on a ledge overlooking the ocean and turns to her. “I don’t mind the quiet,” he confesses. “My head has always been full but I never knew any different. I didn’t realize how much of it was him.” The reincarnation of her grandfather, the darkness, all of it. For a moment he is still enjoying the sights but also the company, the warmth of her next to him. “I don’t need anything to soften the silence,” he starts, “but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to listen to you. I don’t think there’s anything else I’d like more.” Ben grins not for the first time. “How are you friends?”

His laugh was infectious. As much as she wanted to simply bask in the sound of it, considering he’d only just began sometimes making such mirthful noises, she couldn’t help but laugh along with him. Her grin growing wide, she regards him with a slight tilt to her chin. His bright expression takes years off his face, and she recalls the stories of a young Han Solo. How he’d been described as roguishly handsome. Upon looking at Ben, she can see his father in him. Still, she could help but tease him again, “Well, I have no doubt these little porgs will be happy to help you practice your footwork.”

With a sigh, she’d dropped her hand from her hair and resigned herself to letting it tangle around her shoulders. Spotting a movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned her head to watch as Ben loosened the tie from his own hair, and she swallowed as that strange parched sensation dried her throat. She snorted at his assessment of the porgs, shooting the ones nearby a wry glance, then looked back to him as he offered her the tie.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she took it from him, a small smile curling the corner of her lips. She considered tying her hair up right away, but she would have to take her hand out of his and she wasn’t sure she was ready to do that yet. She didn’t want to let him go for any reason, even one as aggravating as her hair falling into her face. 

She followed him to the flat rock, taking her seat next to him as he rests. Her thumb absently strokes over the back of his hand. She looks at the movement of it as he speaks, watching detachedly as her finger gently pushes and pulls at the sensitive skin. She glances up to meet his eyes, then looks away quickly as refers to her grandfather, and her stomach rolls. She chews at the inside of her lip, a question poised on the tip of her tongue, but he changes the topic before she can voice it.

Probably for the best. Her heart was growing laden the more she thought about Palpatine. As she thought about her friends, the weight lifted, though only slightly. 

Ben would have felt the probing of Rey’s gaze as she took stock of his body, cataloguing each and every area for indication of injury or fatigue. So strong was their connection, he would have felt it with his eyes closed and back turned the same way he would have felt her fingers were they to touch him, trace along the curves of his body in their quest to understand how he was feeling. It sent heat to his cheeks, not necessarily of embarrassment, but a warmth of something he wasn’t entirely sure he had a name for at present. “Physically, my strength is returning. I am feeling better every day.” Ben leaves out the part about the force; that attempting to use it beyond meditation and the connection they sometimes share leaves him shaking with fatigue but maybe it is like an overexerted muscle, a part of himself that needs to heal.

Or perhaps it is punishment for spending so much time in the darkness and running from the light.

Ben pushes the thought away. It is easily done because he can sense the unease that settles over her as her mind shifts to something; a memory he realises as her emotions dance a dark number across her features. Although he does not remember everything, he does remember being throne. He remembers her lifeless form spread on the floor. And he remembers pouring everything he was– every part of his unfathomably broken self, every hope he’d ever had, every piece of his jagged heart– into her. It was after that things went hazy. “I’m alright,” he reassures her.

The way she holds his hand is like a mantra or a prayer, Ben thinks. It is gentle but full of possibilities. It gives him the permission he needs to hold her hand back in his own; something about it makes the moment more real. Makes the fact that Ben is alive and Ahch-To and with Rey more real. “I missed you too,” and it’s something like a whisper but deeper than his normal tone. When he swallows, Ben silently chastises himself for the way his eyes linger on Rey’s lips (or really any of her, all of her, just her in general).

“Come and see what I’ve done.” If they stand there any longer he might do something he will regret or she will regret and it’s better to keep busy. To keep moving. Ben keeps their hands connected but moves so their fingers tangle and he leads her along the way showing the walls he has replaced or refurbished. The porgs sing their songs and do not hesitate to curiously investigate the two, especially the younger ones. Careful steps ensure that Ben does not trip over any of them or disturb any of the more creative nesting some have done free of the cliffs and higher up. When he’s done, he laughs. “Okay, well it felt like I did a lot more. But I suppose it’s only been a few days and I’m not really used to the quiet.” Without thinking he touches his head, just a rub of his temple. It’s been so silent. Sometimes he thinks he might go deaf from it.

As the memories of Exegol threaten to pull her under, she’s vaguely aware of Ben’s concern filtering through their bond. It isn’t until he speaks, reassuring her that he’s truly alright, that she allows the feelings to pass. “Good...that’s good.” Fear, anger, anxiety...she lets it all fade away. She’s with her dyad now. He’s healthy, growing stronger day by day, and their only threat is from discovery, which she’d taken steps to prevent. No one would come looking for her here. As far as the once-Resistance was concerned, this island was deserted. 

She meets his eyes again, and what she sees swimming in their depths stops her breath in her throat. His hand is warmer now, moreso than it had ever felt before. Anticipation was building between them, but for what? She was terribly unaccustomed to these nuanced feelings. His gaze slid down to her lips, and hers fell to his. 

Before she could even begin to recall their shared kiss on Exegol, or act on the instinct that told her to rise onto her toes and press her lips to his again (why did she have a near-constant urge to do that, now?), he was tugging her hand. Her focus shifted back to their surroundings. As he threaded his fingers through hers, she gave his hand a slight squeeze.

She inspects his handiwork with a smile, feeling a surge of pride in her heart that he was using his hands not to destroy, but rebuild. Hopefully there would be more of that in the future; him showing the galaxy he was willing and able to atone for the sins of his past. That he was a changed man. Redeemed. 

She laughed loudly as he danced around the porgs, teasing, “You’re a much more graceful dancer when you’re wielding a lightsaber.” One of the porgs made to snatch at one of her three buns, likely thinking it a perfect material to build its nest from, and in her effort to shoo it away the bun loosened, coming completely undone and splaying her hair over her shoulders. She sighed, face pinched, as she ran her fingers through her loose hair (she’ll have to find another tie to re-do her buns with). 

“Who are you?” Qi’ra had risen early and waited. Finally Rey made an appearance from her room. She struck immediately – pushing the girl against the wall of the seedy inn hallway and holding a pistol once more to her temple. “I want the truth. Who sent you and what is this about? And don’t spout some kriff about Han Solo.”

After those strangely vivid dreams, she hadn’t been able to sleep. Instead, the woman had wrung her brain for meaning. They weren’t normal dreams, she knew that. And this girl with her silent abilities wasn’t normal either.

“I’ve heard of people like you. People who know how to control minds, get in other’s heads… I’ve been trained to keep people like you out by one of the most powerful sith lords in the galaxy. Do not mess with me…” she warned through gritted teeth. 

“I have no problem killing you.”

Rey had sensed the presence of her traveling companion outside her doorway when she’d risen in the morning, but hadn’t taken the proper precaution to guagage her intentions before she’d stepped outside. She bared her teeth as she was pushed back against the wall, her eyes flashing.

The images that she’d seen during her meditation had perplexed her, and though she’d focused on searching for the meaning behind them until the sun had rose, the answers to the puzzle had remained elusive. Such was the way of the Force; she must connect the pieces herself. 

Which wouldn’t be possible if she was dead. 

“I have no doubt about that,” she responded to Qi’ra’s final threat. Darkness was curling around Qi’ra in a way that Rey had come to learn meant she was preparing to kill. Instinct taking over, Rey used to Force to push the other woman off of her, while simultaneously snatching the blaster from her hand. Knowing that was not Qi’ra’s sole weapon, Rey reached for the saber she’d kept hidden under her tunic and powered it, leveling it at Qi’ra’s throat.

The warmth from the sun and the way the ocean reflected the strong reys meant that though his skin was still pale, it was shades darker than it had been when she had left. It had only been a few days working on Ahch-To to assist the care takers but if Ben had paid any care to look at his reflection (he didn’t, he wasn’t particularly vain nor greatly interested in what he might see for a multitude of reasons) he would have seen the change himself. One hand was raised high to block the sun from his eyes as Rey dismounted but even with eyes slightly squinted, he did not miss the way Rey stumbled from the ship. Ben’s eyebrows lifted as he let out a laugh, the kind that echoed up from his belly, as he glanced down at himself and then back at his dyad.

“I’m… is this indecent?” Ben asked perplexed but not without amusement. With a gentle roll of his eyebrows– it is more amusement than it is inconvenience– as he grabs the tunic from where he’d left it and shrugs it over his shoulders. “I’ve been working to fix the damage to some of the walls. Dragging stones across the island in the sun isn’t exactly what these were made for.” Or maybe it’s the absence of the constant chill of the darkside that has him feeling so much warmer. Ben does not bother to button it leaving his chest mostly still revealed but he can pretend he’s done something to assist with whatever modesty she is feeling. “Better?”

Before she can answer, one of the caretakers approaches. Although he is not greatly familiar with them, he thinks perhaps there is an unfavourable or at least presumptive judgement in the look given to Rey upon her arrival as the caretaker offers him a glass of cool liquid. “Thank you,” he says with a slight bow. He doesn’t understand the response but it’s the eyes that seem to be smiling and he takes it to mean you’re welcome. Ben doesn’t miss the astounded look on Rey’s face. “I told you… I’m charming.” But the drink is forgotten really, because she is back and he is glad and he… wants to do something but he’s not sure what. And he is even less sure what he is allowed to do. Thank her? Embrace her? Stand awkwardly in front of her without a clue what to do with his limbs? Naturally he does the latter.

“I -- well, I wouldn’t want the locals to be...uncomfortable,” she responded lamely. She wanted to kick herself a moment later when he explained to her he’d been in that same state of undress for days now. The redness on her cheeks burned all the brighter, but he at least covered himself...mostly. Enough of his chest remained bare for her to feel a dryness in her throat and an unfamiliar heat coiling in her abdomen. 

“Yes, better,” she responded to his question, quickly glancing around the island. She could see slight changes to the landscape; she hadn’t realized how much of it had changed thanks to her and Luke’s meddling. 

“You said you dragged the stones...so you’re feeling well, then?” she asked, looking back to him. Carefully, studiously, she kept her eyes on his face and only his face.  “You shouldn’t strain yourself too much, not after...” 

Memories flashed before her eyes, constricting her throat. Palpatine draining their life forces, sending him flying over the edge of an abyss. Then, later, coming back into consciousness to the feeling of his hand resting on her abdomen and his life force coursing through her. She felt residuals of the panic and fear that had coursed through her as he’d fallen to his back, what was left of his life force flickering faintly.

It was with much effort that she managed to swallow the lump that formed in her throat. She felt a presence approaching, and shrunk back when she saw one of the island’s caretakers coming toward them. The caretaker shot her a scorching look, but then turned a softened gaze to Ben and...offered him water? Rey hadn’t even realized her jaw had dropped until Ben’s comment, and expelled a sharp, breathy laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t have doubted you. I don’t-- how--” 

Rey’s cheeks have flushed a sum total of one other time in any of their encounters both in person and through the force. And that time was when Ren— because that was who he was at the time— chased after her through a hallway mid treatment his chest bare. She’d been wide eyed at his half nudity but the red of her cheeks could have been as much from fury with him as with modesty. A desert planet like Jakku with sunlight as strong as it was— walking about uncovered was just as dangerous as wearing too many layers. Her indignant laughter is contagious though and Ben chuckles in fondness.

“Well even if you had, I would not mind. Thank you for taking care of me.” It is heartfelt and his tongue grows heavy and his throat three sizes too small even as he says it. Ben isn’t sure he deserves any of it but if Rey feels that he does, if she is willing, the it is not up to be to belittle such a thing by pronouncing his lack of worthiness to her.

Their bond has always been an intimate thing, something that connected them even when it was not accompanied by manifestations of one another; there was always a sense of the other out in the galaxy. Of their being. Their emotions when they were spiked. But forehead to forehead with her hands on his face and maybe even the ghost of her breath tickling his cheek, Ben’s heart swells in his chest. This. This closeness is what he’d always desired. This trust and companionship. Whether he deserves it or not is irrelevant, Rey is willing to give it and he has been starved of it for too long. Ben accepts it and he gives it whole heartedly in return.

“If you’re sure.” Ben will trust her judgement like a compass he hasn’t always possessed himself. “I’ll be waiting. Fly safe.” He wraps his arms around her in a tight embrace before their connection dwindles. They cannot stay that way forever and he knows the awkwardness that would likely follow should one of her friends walk in on the two of them tangled that way (like when Luke has walked in on their hands touching). It will be a day or two, he thinks, before Rey arrives. And the least he can do in that time is try to ingratiate them to the locals whatever they’ve felt toward Rey. The medical droid isn’t an unwelcome present but it is clear in bestowing it to the island’s caretakers that medical work is not a likely task. Maintenance and cleanliness appear to be their primary goals with preserving the landscape in its natural and historic form as much as possible.

There have been some incidences, Ben comes to learn. His understanding of their language is basic at best but with a few gestures and a general interpreting of the emotion behind it, he thinks he’s generally able to piece it together. Some stone work has fallen (been blasted or lightsabered he thinks from the markings) but Ben offers his assistance. It keeps him busy while Rey is gone. The sun is a warm and welcome thing in his skin; at some point he’d lost the tunic like top and tied his hair back with a strip of fabric as he fixes some of the stone work. It has been many years since he’s done such a thing but all apprentices at Luke’s academy learned practical skills as well as the way of the force. They’d had plenty of walls to rebuild when a spare lightsaber or blaster bolt went astray in training. Ben doesn’t use the force to carry the blocks or remove them when repairing the wall; he’s not sure how strong it would respond. The island buzzes with life and the force around him but like an overused muscle, it feels fatigued.

Ben feels Rey before he hears the xwing in the atmosphere above. He carries on his work hoping to finish by the time she lands and Ben does. He stands on the other side of the clearing as she kills the engine, a smile on his face. “Guess you really couldn’t wait to get back.”

Much to her chagrin, it turned out she’d been wrong when she’d told Ben there was no need for her among her once-Restinace friends. Names were being tossed around as to what the new government would be called, but Rey didn’t care one way or another so long as it was fair and just. Peace in the galaxy had been won, but prosperity was still to come.

Poe, particularly, had been adamant she not leave. He insisted there was a role for her here, though when she pressed him to define it, he floundered. Finn regarded her from the sidelines, a particular glint in his eye making her feel on edge. It was only when she insisted that she must go that he took her aside, and confided to her what he’d wanted to say as they’d sunk into the sand pit on Pasaana, that she understood. He was Force-sensitive, and he sensed there was something she was hiding.

“It’s for your own safety, and mine, that I can’t tell you,” she’d finally sighed after a lengthy discussion. Finn hadn’t been happy, but he’d finally acquiesced. She gave him, Chewie, and Poe a hug, promised to see them again soon, and was off.

She was nearly crawling out of her skin by the time she entered Ahch-To’s atmosphere. Her need to see Ben in the flesh, alive and healthy, was driving her to near-madness. Was it part of their bond? The dyad? Would it always feel this way when they were apart; like she was missing a piece of who she was? She doubted anyone, even the masters who’d penned the Ancient Jedi Texts, would be able to answer that question.

Hopping out of the x-wing, utilizing the assistance of the Force to make a safe landing from the cockpit, she nearly stumbled over her own two feet when she raised her eyes and caught sight of Ben. His pale skin glistened in the light. His hair was pulled away from his face, allowing her to see every bit of his eager, pleased expression. 

“One of your friends?” Qi’ra asked with interest. “Wise words.” It was the outline of the golden-yellow orb that interrupted conversation. Tatooine loomed before them like a large globe completely made of sand. Where other planets boasted bright blue water sources, this one was speckled with dark patches that, at least from a distance, looked like mud. As they moved closer, Qi’ra realized she wasn’t far off - this place was all desert.

“Let us down easy,” she advised, gripping her seat as the ship met hard ground. They had made it. Han would be somewhere here. Now it was only a matter of finding him… 

—

There was no use in starting their search in the dead of night on a foreign planet. Depositing a hefty load of credits, Qi’ra found a semi-reputable inn at the edge of the nearest town and swiftly made her way to bed. Both women would need their energy up by morning if they were going to look for a needle in a haystack. 

Sleep came easy - and so did Qi’ra’s dreams.

She was rushing through the streets of a desert planet. Not Tatooine, though this district had the same old, impoverished look to it. 

Jakku. 

A small girl in her arms clung to the fabric of her mother’s coat, newly jolted awake from a peaceful slumber. Her chestnut hair was coming undone from its braids due to the woman’s brisk walk.

“Go back to sleep,” Qi’ra said, slowing her pace to let the child lull back into rest. She found a corner of an alleyway - one that reminded her of those dirty Corellian streets where she’d once been abandoned - and gently set the girl down. Placed her coat over her for warmth. 

Someone would find her and care for her; give her a proper family. Or she would learn to survive. Scavenge for food and for credits. A life of petty thievery would not be ideal, but it would certainly be safer than back home. Safer than being raised in Crimson Dawn.

All of the fine clothing and hearty meals in the world weren’t worth that. The child had already endured enough. Born into the most hostile syndicate in the galaxy, to one of the most wicked men in the galaxy, Dryden Vos, she would forever be indebted to Crimson Dawn. Qi’ra knew that life. It would not be passed down to her daughter.

Blue eyes forced their gaze from the sleeping girl’s face. 

Rey. 

Qi’ra bolted upright and woke in a sweat, her mind buzzing again. 

What a strange dream.

“Take it from me, love. There are few people you can trust in this galaxy. Fewer who won’t disappoint you anyway…” Rey’s face had hardened visibly over the topic of her parents. She was looking at the dashboard in deep concentration so Qi’ra rose from her seat. Gestured to the wheel, letting the girl have a go at steering.

Rey was tough. Qi’ra had been able to spot that before ever learning of her abandonment. Tough, determined - much like herself - and hopeful. How long would that hopeful flicker last in someone like Rey, she wondered? Someone so starkly on her own? Someone who went after what she wanted hard. That spark had faded over the years in her own life.

“Quicker you understand that and accept it, the easier life becomes. Your parents were kriffin’ idiots for leaving you, so you shouldn’t wait around. You’ve got to always move onward. Never look back.”

Glancing up over to Qi’ra as she rose from her seat, Rey first looked between her and the wheel for a moment before offering the other woman a smile and scooting over. She glanced over the controls, noting with detached interest the differences between the old tech and the newer pieces the Resistance had back home.

She turned to Qi’ra as she spoke again, her expression once again dropping. A soft, breathy chuckle escaped her at her as Kira finished up her declaration.