A/N: Hello! *echo, echo*
Well, firstly, I'm still kinda, sorta on hiatus. The Muse showed up out of nowhere, however, and I must sincerely thank her for turning up after what has been a very long dry spell.
I've nosedived head first into this intriguing new pairing, Kylo Ren and Rey, from Star Wars and it's consuming my soul. (No, for those who are curious, I will cling to the hope that these two characters don't wind up related because a). that's ridiculous, b). it's way too predictable for this franchise, c). HELLO, on screen sexual tension anyone?!, and d). THEY BELONG TOGETHER, DAMN IT, AND NO ONE WILL CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE!).
Anyway, this one-shot is the result of my shipper trash-bearing heart, and I hope it moves you in some way. :) I shall do my best to get back to my WIPs soon, but I also intend to start a multi-chapter (less angsty, I promise!) fic for this pairing as well because I simply adore them and can't get it out of my mind.
Warning: ANGSTY FIC IS ANGSTY. NOT A HAPPY ENDING EITHER. Readers familiar with me will know how this rolls. The rest of you have been warned.
Lastly, if the pairing isn't for you, don't read. If it is a pairing you enjoy (or, at the very least, are curious about), though, please leave a review. Without your thoughts, it isn't worth sharing.
Disclaimer: Star Wars is copyrighted to and belongs to George Lucas, Disney, etc. I'm just playing with one of their cruisers and enjoying myself. No money, just fun. Artwork is entitled "Kylo Ren x Rey" by verauko on DeviantArt.
A Promise Kept
By CRMediaGal
"He saw the darkness in her beauty. She saw the beauty in his darkness."
- Unknown
"Look at me, Rey. What do you see?"
"I see a man; a man who's no less than any other man."
"No. Look harder. What do you see?"
"I can't give you the sufficient answer you want, Ben..."
"Yes, you can! Look. Harder."
"He wouldn't want you to think that of yourself. Neither can I. You ask the impossible."
"That's a foolish girl's answer, not that of an astute Jedi!"
"Don't think insulting me will change my mind. You've already exercised that tactic before, and you failed."
"Yes...I failed, but I will make you see me for what I am."
"You say that out of fear. We both know it."
"I will make you see!"
"No, you won't."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because you already turned from that path. I've felt it, and so have you, Ben. You made a choice."
"I... I still have conflict. You don't know the half of it—"
"Of course you do. You wouldn't be human if you didn't. But I trust in what I feel, and you can, too."
"Rey... Please..."
"Don't be afraid anymore, Ben. Trust me; trust us. Just let it in."
"You were right, Rey," he confessed to her in a careworn, soft whisper that, to this day, haunted her nights and chased her few good dreams. His vocals cracked against the frigid night air, their rapid sounds breathless and strained, registering only a fraction above the winter wind that rippled and spun around them, teasing and tormenting its icy grip.
Kneeling before her one-time adversary, Rey, a young, unknown scavenger who rose from the dry wasteland of Jakku to become a Jedi Knight of exemplary aptitude and ability, found herself driven to unapologetic snivelling and tears. She had heard each word as it painfully transpired from his lips, as if wrought from the very deepest recesses of his chest; from his still beating heart.
But only just...
Her mind and body stilled, frozen not by the brutal cold that chilled every muscle but from the paralysingly sight of blood—rich and vibrant, its course resigned—that struck a cutting visual through the pure white snow on the ground.
So much blood.
"Rey," he repeated her name and its faint sound was strangely warm, like the comfort and serenity of a loving home long forgotten. "You were right about me..."
'You were right about me.'
Rey remembered hearing those words before, captured at a tender moment in time that she would surely never forget. No, never.
Suddenly torn between action and refutation, an emotionally charged Rey wrestled to balance herself; to calm her unraveling nerves over the despairing situation that had befallen them; to centre her emotions using all the tools her master had taught her when a Jedi is confronted by distress.
But death...
There was no Jedi coping mechanism for dealing with such indescribable anguish and despair. The pain coursing through her and blackening her heart felt overwhelming. The strong stench of blood mixing with the wet snow combated any collectiveness her Jedi senses could grasp.
How could she possibly remain cool and detached when the man cradled in her trembling arms was choking on his own blood supply and slipping away before her eyes?
This is your doing. It shouldn't be.
He wasn't just a man. No. She had loved him once, and she loved him still. He was her lover, her teacher, her steadfast, quiet companion—silent and undetected to most, unstable and deadly to others—with whom she once foolishly believed she might share a future with...whenever this bloody war finally came to an end.
Such an absurd fantasy that ideal now seemed, and it was trickling away from her with each passing second like the man's blood that soaked the ground, staining the snow a bold, defiant crimson. There was nothing Rey could do to stop it.
'You were right, Rey... You were right about me...'
"You seem surprised," she had innocently teased the last time he had uttered those defining words.
It had been at a fleeting but far more lighthearted moment in their lives. She knew of their power, of course—what those words truly meant for the both of them—and yet, she had laughed and blushed as they sat upright in bed, together. It was a cherished spot they shared often—and in secret—and, on this occasion, they were facing one another, his earnest, dark brown eyes thoughtfully searching hers. They used to be so disconcerting, those eyes. At one time, Rey never would have fathomed that Kylo Ren—or Ben, as only she, his mother, and his uncle lovingly called him—was capable of looking upon her with anything other than black hatred. Yet that morning there was unmistakable warmth, respect and adoration. Subtle, yes, but not abstruse or easily misconstrued.
It was love.
"I'm quite surprised, in fact," he admitted, offering Rey the slightest, half-cocked smirk at one corner of his mouth.
The bed sheets, having become wrinkled and disheveled over night, were now mostly wrapped around Rey, who had compacted herself within them as much as humanly possible. Her lover had declared her "a beautiful mess", whatever that meant. It caused her cheeks to flush with almost dizzy-like joy.
"Why?" she asked, playfully raising an eyebrow at him. "Because you didn't believe me capable of reading others like you can?"
Ben's smirk widened a little. "You underestimate how highly I actually thought of your capabilities back then."
"Well, in my defence, at the time you made it exceedingly difficult to think highly of you at all."
A curly hair drifted free of Rey's left ear, sweeping forward onto her pale, lightly freckled face, which prompted Ben to reach out a hand and tuck it safely—gently—back into place. There, his hand lingered, a soft index finger faintly tracing the shape of her earlobe, then her sharp jaw line and, lastly, her slightly parted, perfectly moulded lips. She may not have considered herself to be any great beauty, but he surely did.
Rey sucked in a breath at his steady, heated contact. Would she ever grow accustomed to being touched like so? For so long, love had remained a foreign concept, but now she was thoroughly relishing every bit of its spark, newness, and unfamiliarity.
It suddenly felt too long a span since they last kissed, though barely any time had passed at all, and yet, she desired further sampling. In haste, Rey positioned herself onto her knees, taking some of the bed sheets with her. Her right shoulder become unexpectedly bare and exposed, momentarily distracting Ben's already keen attention; but that soon drew back to the vivacious, naked creature in front of him, for she had leaned in close, inching forward until her lips could mesh with his.
Their exchange was considerate but intense, unforced and attentive, and, as usual, all too brief. Rey's somewhat swollen mouth formed another smile once their lips parted, its appearance pensive, unlike the last she had donned moments ago.
"I'm not the only one, you know," she murmured close to his face, taking a measured silence to nudge his large nose with her much daintier one, "who can sense the good in you."
At once, Ben's diminutive smirk disappeared. He cast his eyes downward to scoop up Rey's hand, not uttering a word, and blinked several times as he examined their intertwined fingers. His hands were too large for hers, seeming to engulf rather than blend, and yet, somehow or other, they felt as though they were always meant to hold one another.
"No," Ben hesitantly responded, his voice low and restrained, "but your forgiveness is..."
His words trailed off, incomplete but, nevertheless, comprehended. He felt her hand clasp his tighter in quiet understanding.
Giving a small, modest shake of her head, Rey then stroked the heavy scar that ran the length of her lover's long, angular face, from his high forehead, over his left eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose, and down his right cheek. His eyelashes fluttered at her delicate touch, sensitive to the awe and power her lightsaber had, at one time, wielded on him at Starkiller Base.
"Don't," she said, her plea feeble but heartfelt. "It will be all right. We'll make it right."
'We'll make it right.'
That was Rey, Ben frequently reminded himself. She was the reason he carried any faith these days in such godawful, foolhardy sentiments such as Hope. He used to believe that that was a detrimental weakness of the Light, but, well, that was before her.
Perhaps, just maybe, there might be brighter days ahead for him, and it was Rey and her forgiveness—the goodness and genuineness of her love—that had finally provided Ben Solo with every reason to hope.
"You'll help me?" he asked quietly whilst staring deeply into her eyes. Rey affirmed her accordance with an enthusiastic nod. "You'll help me, even if it means...the unthinkable?"
Rey's eyebrows forged together in confusion. "What on earth do you mean by that?"
Ben's expression was fierce and unshaken, however. "You know precisely what I mean, Rey. Need I ask you to search your feelings?"
After an uneasy pause, Rey swallowed hard. She gave a few ardent shakes of her head and answered with shaky uncertainty, "No. You don't have to ask because we both know that won't be necessary."
"Rey—"
"You're no longer that man, Ben," she argued, one hand holding firmly to his whilst the other continued grazing the uneven skin patches along his right cheek. "There will be no need to go down that path, so why must you bring it up?"
He frowned when she turned away from him, abruptly breaking their physical contact. She crossed her legs with an angry huff and hugged them tightly to her chest, looking every bit the vulnerable, lost child she had once been. She rocked back and forth on the bed, refusing to meet Ben's gaze, her eyes freshly misty.
"I've upset you," he declared after a tense silence transpired between them.
"Yes, you have."
"But, as a Jedi, it's unwise to deny the possibility—"
"Oh, enough with your Jedi talk!" she hissed, sending a testy, contorted glare his direction that warned the man not to continue this line of discussion lest he wish to end up with the rest of his face disfigured.
Ben wisely chose to disengage but not without conveying a disappointed sigh. He shifted closer and slowly eased a hand across her back, though he—smartly—exercised caution as he did so. Only once he was sure Rey wasn't going to shy away from him did he chance drawing nearer still.
Eventually, Rey's tight ball of a frame unfurled and nestled into his side, much of her face finding refuge against his lightly furred chest. She could feel him resting his chin on top of her head, pondering and brooding as he so often did, with the rhythmic beat of his heart drumming against her ear. Those deft fingers, too, which had mapped their way across every inch of her skin with such splendour and passion as to leave her body humming for days, began forming gentle circles along her shoulder. She allowed herself to relax, and too quickly for the carefully crafted words that followed.
"You promised to help me, Rey," he breathed into her hair, "and I'm counting on you to keep that promise."
"I... I will."
"No matter what."
When Rey didn't concur, Ben tightened his grip. When she still wouldn't budge or pipe up, he gave her frame a small, encouraging prod.
Exhaling an onerous sigh, Rey peered up into her lover's face—open and forthright as it never was outside of this private oasis that was wholly and completely their own. She would comply, though only to satisfy him, for she knew in her heart that she could never, ever do what he was so cruelly asking of her.
"No matter what."
What a monster you are to have failed so disastrously! she cursed as the tears fell freely and relentlessly, hazing her view of Ben's grossly pallid complexion.
"You did the right thing, Rey..." he choked out, barely able to speak, and Rey found that she could no longer withhold the cries that were forming at the back of her throat.
"Why, Ben?" she whimpered and clutched him to her as much as possible; she could hear his terrible struggle to breathe. "Why?"
"It...was the only way...to be free of this pain..."
That harrowing remark hit too close to the heart of the matter. Rey tried to control her sobs but it was too difficult, what with the colour draining from Ben's face and the gaping hole gushing blood from his stomach, reinforcing the horror of his demise. There should be no fatal wound there and there wouldn't be...were it not for her.
No. This can't be real. This is no prophecy fulfilled.
It wasn't supposed to end like this. The Jedi omen, which had long spoken of an individual who would bring balance to the Force, was worked out by Rey and her master to be Ben Solo, the tortured, fallen Jedi of Princess Leia and Han Solo, who turned from the Light before finding his way back with Rey's guidance.
"This isn't fair!"
"You can't stop what's coming, Rey."
"Yes, I can! If you would only just—"
"Search your feelings. Acknowledge what you know to be the truth."
"What I do know, Master, is that there has to be another way!"
"Ben may openly condemn the Dark Side when the time comes, but it won't be enough. You know this, Rey. So does he."
"NO! You're wrong!"
"Rey—"
"What would you have him do? Destroy himself? How does that solve anything?"
"Your emotions are clouding your judgment, young Jedi."
"You can't honestly believe that your own nephew deserves this?"
"No, I don't, but I've also come to terms with what the prophecy means. It was never about my father; it was always about Ben."
"Please, Master! Don't let this happen!"
"You care about him."
"...Yes."
"Then you must do what is necessary, Rey...or you compromise more than just your own heart in this matter."
"But, sir—"
"If you don't finish what's in motion, all will be lost. Consider the risk of what the galaxy will lose if you give in to your emotions."
Rey had tried. She had struggled so hard not to fight him, but Ben Solo proved, as he always did, a far too troubling force to be cordially reckoned with. Both he and her master believed in the prophecy's message—that the balance of the Force couldn't be attained without sacrifice—and, in the end, they were verifying that to be so, despite Rey's stubborn denial of what was directly in front of her sight.
The proof was in the man who was now passing in her embrace. Rey could already feel the atmosphere shifting as he fought for every breath.
It can't be true. It just can't be. It's not fair!
As Ben had expressed to her privately (and too many times than she cared to recall), he was "too far gone", "too torn apart" by both sides to procure salvation. He would "never be whole" and "never fully capable of living alongside the Light"; not after having fallen so far.
That hadn't stopped Rey from believing otherwise; from refusing to give up hope in Ben's redemption. She certainly couldn't bring herself to accept this heinous outcome to all of his painstaking efforts. Even as Ben Solo lay dying in her arms, Rey still refused to succumb to the appalling notion that Ben's death was the only way forward for the whole of the galaxy. How was this bringing balance to the Force, forfeiting an already tormented man's life who had surrendered enough of himself?
IT'S NOT FAIR!
"Rey..."
Rey tried to focus, but the tears were making it difficult to see or think clearly. She bent over Ben to take in his last, parting words, whatever they may be. She wanted to save him and take it all back—the stupid prophecy, his unspeakable pain, his heartbreak and all-consuming guilt—if any of it meant keeping him alive just a little while longer; but anything she thought might alter the fate of things seemed futile and hopeless now.
"You already have," he wheezed, reading Rey's frantic-driven mind. She cried out and shook her head, knowing she had failed him, but he repeated the words again, sensing she would have to reiterate them to herself in the days, months, perhaps even years ahead. Hopefully not that long...
"You've already saved me, Rey... Thank you..."
"No," she managed to blurt out between stifled sobs. "You had it in you all along, Ben... I... I just helped you to see."
"And you did." A single tear escaped his eye and seeped down his ashen cheek. Rey was shaking too badly to wipe it away. "Thank you...for everything. You kept your promise..."
"I - I did?" she wept, her lower lip quivering.
"Yes... And I am free..."
There was no further gasp for breath. No more tears or words of farewell. Ben Solo's eyes, once consumed by Darkness, turned glossy and motionless. The heaviness that, for so long, had loomed in their tormented depths, despite having turned to Light and Love, lifted from him at last.
'And I am free.'
Overcome with grief, Rey collapsed over top of her lover's lifeless body and wailed as she had never cried in her life; harder than when her parents abandoned her on Jakku; harder than when she had watched Han Solo die whilst trying to save his only son from himself. Her own Light was being snuffed out, swiftly devoured by unimaginable Heartache and Sorrow, and she hadn't the will to stop it.
So much pain...
Yes, Ben Solo was finally free. But Rey was not, and now she would never be.
A/N #2: Thank you for reading. Reviews are always greatly appreciated.