Rey stared at the figure across from her. Her gaze irresistibly drawn to those eyes.
Eyes she had seen before. Eyes that had haunted her dreams and filled her longing for years -
the eyes of her father.
Luke stare at the daughter, he had thought forever lost.
Years and years had passed.
He had thought her safely anonymous in a world far from her heritage and yet here she stood before him.
He had known, had felt the weaving of the force these last few days.
He had felt the awakening and the rising fury - had braced himself for the storm.
Yet the storm had not come.
He had reached out ever so carefully with thinnest tendrils of force energy to feel his sister again after all these years and had connected to her only to feel her pain, to experience the loss of Han. Now the past was irrevocably broken. Threads torn and sundered and yet he knew, he would have to return.
Once more he would have to take up the mantle of the Jedi.
He had spent years, decades it seemed, in isolation - immersing himself in the force.
Studying, learning, becoming one with this infinite field of energy.
It could now truly be said that he was the most powerful Jedi the galaxy had know so far - yet he was entirely different from the Jedi order of old.
Silently he stood, gazing at his daughter.
The storm would break, but for this instance time stood still.