The Middle Ground Trilogy: A Dream Is A Wish
Warnings: Explicit content, morally ambiguous relationships, possible incest
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Star Wars, its affiliates and trademarks. Any OCs belong to me.
A/N: So like many, I am now jumping on the Reylo wagon after watching TFA. I'm writing this on the impression that Rey is an anomaly, like Anakin, rather than related to the Skywalkers. Even if she is, I'm betting no closer than cousin anyway. So this will most likely turn into AU by May 2017. This will be the first of a trilogy of long oneshots. It seems I'm doomed to be compelled to write for angst-y, morally ambiguous ships between a dark-haired antagonist and brunette protagonist.
Rey gladly collapsed onto the spartan cot in her new quarters. They were austere and basic, but practically luxury compared to what she'd lived in on Jakku. She was warm without being drenched in sweat, her stomach was fuller than it had ever been in her life, and she'd accomplished the first part of her mission. Find Master Skywalker.
Standing on that rocky escarpment, holding out the lightsabre of his father, Rey had thought her heart was going to beat its way out of her chest. A part of her, the part that had clung to Jakku even as she dreamed of leaving it, the part that made her run in a mad, panic-fuelled scramble from Maz Kanata's bar and straight into the clutches of the First Order, into…him, had made her fear his rejection. That this legendary warrior, more myth than man in Rey's head, would reject her for failing to save Han Solo, for being so afraid, that even now she would still be found wanting. That she would be turned away, cast off without any purpose. With Solo's death, she desperately needed purpose now. She feared what would happen if he didn't grant her that, at least. Her fear ran deep, its source a pair of dark eyes that pierced into her very soul when he removed his mask, that cut into her with every glance, every blow, every word. Begging, pleading, demanding things of her that Rey instinctively knew she couldn't give.
Despite the euphoria of finding Skywalker, the realisation that her long journey was over, for now, none of it had been enough to dispel Rey's fear that Master Skywalker would look into her mind, see her innermost secrets and send her away for them. For the taint, the temptation that thrummed in her blood like an electrical current, charged by hate and longing. Rey hadn't known it was possible to feel such a dichotomy of emotion, but she did.
But he hadn't. Rey had almost expected to have to tell him the whole painful story, but she guessed, from the moment their eyes had met across that rocky edge, that he already knew. Somehow, he already knew everything that had happened.
They had spoken very little, only long enough for Rey to realise that she was expected to stay. That she had a teacher. A purpose, a home, at long last.
After observing a poignant reunion between Master Skywalker, Chewie and R2-D2, the old Jedi had ensured they were well-fed, and then directed them all to new quarters. For safety's sake, Chewie and R2 would remain with them for the entirety of her training, until Master Skywalker deemed her ready to return, and felt ready to return with her. Rey didn't need to use her slowly awakening abilities with the Force to sense the reluctance and the pain that still afflicted her new Master. His failure with Ben Solo had scarred him deeply, and while he had long ago let go of his fear and anger towards the young Knight of Ren, she understood his decision to remain in hiding. Returning to the fray would only draw more fire from the First Order down on the heads of the Resistance, a fire Rey had seen for herself they had little resources to handle. Hopefully the destruction of Starkiller Base would level the field, for a little while. Until she could return. Until they could return.
For the first time since leaving Jakku, since Solo's death, Rey felt a sense of hope engulf her, flickering against her skin like sunlight. She bathed in it, smiling softly as she forced herself back upright and readied herself for bed. She undid her hair from its usual style, firmly pulled back from her face, and shrugged out of her leggings, tunic and surcoat, pulling a loose shirt from her scant luggage to use as nightwear.
As she put her things away, she glanced around her quarters once more. The walls were of rough, unhewn stone, almost cave-like unlike the primitive, hut-shaped dwellings on the cliff side. Master Skywalker had discovered the caves, and had used them as his abode, being more secure, snug and protected from the elements. The planet they now resided on had no name, lost to the annals of history, but it could be stormy, for all its balmy calm when they'd landed.
Directly opposite her bed, a small fire flickered. A small stack of firewood sat nearby on the sandy floor. Beside her cot was a carved wooden chest for her clothes and few belongings, and beside that stood a stool on which a wash basin rested. The fire sent light flickering over the rock above her head, glistening slightly in the dim light, shadows chasing their way around the small room. Rey could just about hear the crash of the waves on the cliff side nearby, if she strained her hearing.
With the fire and the already warm night, Rey decided against huddling under the blanket, simply curling her legs under her as she made herself comfortable on the bed. On Jakku, she'd never have felt safe enough to undress the way she had. Raids by the other scavengers were not unheard of, and Rey had always wanted to be ready for anything, regardless.
As she lay back, a glint of silver caught her eye from the open lid of the chest. She reached out and shivered, as she felt the cool metal of the lightsabre under her fingers. She hefted its weight, reliving the moment it had flown to her hand, at her call, with about as much effort as it took to pluck a leaf from its branch. When she had been filled with fear for Finn, rage for Solo, so much rage at the creature who had torn his life from him, tearing his family apart without a flicker of regret.
She remembered that insidious hate, born from the moment she watched Solo slump and fall into the shaft below them, and how it had felt coursing through her veins. How easy she could conjure it now, recalling it with ease, as her mind's eye filled with thoughts of dark hair, deep brown eyes and patrician features. Unlike the ragged and emaciated humans she'd known on Jakku, the son of Han Solo and Leia Organa had been handsome, with a sensual mouth and expressive features. A face that Rey couldn't have imagined capable of what he had done. She knew he had committed atrocities, the First Order was infamous for them, but that…to Rey, abandoned by her family and left with no understanding of who she was, no identity beyond what she'd constructed for herself, left with nothing but a desperate desire for family, he had committed the ultimate sin.
Frustrated, Rey tried to force the young Knight from her mind again, shoving the lightsabre back into the chest and slamming the lid shut. She remembered the cool clarity that washed through her when she felt the Force and knowingly reached out to it for the first time, and tried to find it again.
She felt nothing but darkness and chaos, sweeping through the galaxy around them, their refuge a solitary beacon in the troubled night. She felt the presence of Master Skywalker, like a soft light in the darkness. Far away, she felt the presence of General Organa, untrained but still so attuned to the Force that coursed through the veins of her and her brother both. And her son.
Rey shuddered, snapping away from the feel of Kylo Ren's presence, like a raging wildfire of hate and passion and fear, that same fear she'd sensed in him from the moment he tried to enter her mind, back on Starkiller Base.
She wouldn't be getting any help from the Force tonight, that was for sure. Trying to clear her head, Rey snuggled down on her cot and tried to sleep.
She could feel someone watching her.
Reflexes born from long years spent surviving on Jakku brought her back to wakefulness, though she knew better than to move and alert her watcher yet. No, better to lull them into a false sense of security and then strike.
But unlike before, she had a new advantage. Cautiously, she tried to reach out with her mind, trying to sense who was watching her. Master Skywalker? Chewbacca?
But no. The presence she sensed as she stretched her mind out was all too familiar and powerful, to be either the Jedi Master or the Wookie. No, it was…
"You can stop pretending now. I know you're awake," an achingly familiar voice remarked, in a bored, lazy drawl that she hadn't heard before. It reminded her of Solo.
Rey snapped awake, lunging upright on her cot and bring her legs under her to pounce. Her eyes searched the dim shadows for him and found him, leaning tall, dark and insouciant against the doorframe of her quarters. But it wasn't his sudden appearance that made her gasp.
Stretching along his face, down the length of his nose and than across his cheekbone, was the gash she'd made with the lightsabre. It was healing, nothing more than a jagged pink scar, but it stood out, cutting his face in two. With a slight tinge of annoyance, Rey observed it didn't make him any less handsome, just lent a rugged edge to what had previously been an almost angelic perfection to his features.
She reached out for the sabre, wondering why he appeared unarmed and why he wasn't moving, but it didn't come to her call. Not this time.
"Oh, did you want something?" Ren asked, with a raised brow. Rey just glared at him.
Just then, it hit her. There was no way he could know where she was, let alone followed her here. There was no way he would come alone, without backup, and why would he come after her first? No… "This isn't real," she pronounced triumphantly. "It's a dream."
"Obviously," Ren replied, drawing closer.
"Why are you here?" Rey demanded firmly, swallowing back the feeling of vulnerability that swept her, as his eyes roved over her legs, exposed by the hem of her nightshirt. "Eyes up here, Ren," she continued pointedly, surprising a bark of a laugh from him.
"Like you, I didn't exactly plan on spending my night thus," Ren replied. "It would seem your amateur attempt at entering my mind has established a bond between us."
"My amateur-" Rey began, outraged. "Says the man who couldn't even get what he wanted from inside my head."
"Yes, thank you for the reminder," Ren interrupted, as he gestured to his new scar. "And thank you for that. I'll owe you for that."
"It was the least you deserved, you monster!" Rey shot back coldly, forcing back her anger. "And don't think you'll get any information from me. If you knew where I was, you'd already be here with a battalion of storm troopers."
"So you worked that out? Clever girl," he sighed. To Rey's horror, he moved to perch beside her on the cot, his leg pressed against hers.
"Don't try to distract me," she continued firmly, trying to recall the rage and the anguish she'd felt watching Solo fall. "You're a monster, and I want nothing to do with you."
"Solo had to die," Ren replied forcefully. "It was a necessary sacrifice to take my rightful place, to continue my grandfather's legacy-"
"Oh, spare me your repulsive rhetoric," Rey spat at him, revulsion rising in her throat, fighting with the strange vulnerability that still swept her body in racking shivers. "It won't work on me. You disgust me."
"Yes, I do, don't I?" Ren cocked his head, eying her without dismay. "And at the same time…I don't. You don't know what you feel for me, you're…torn."
"Get out of my head," she snarled. Ren shrugged.
"You're in mine. Seems only fair," he replied. "I haven't given up, Rey."
A shudder ran through her at his word, firm and unyielding. They should have chilled her, but the feeling inside her was more akin to the languid warmth of his tone, warring with the hate in her heart. "What do you want from me?" she asked, finally.
"I know you've felt it," Ren breathed, reaching out one, un-gloved hand to her bare thigh, gently brushing the skin with his fingertips. "For better or worse, we are bound together. The Force sent you to me, to be your teacher, your guide, your equal. Together, we'll be unstoppable."
"You're deluded," Rey retorted fiercely. "I will never give in to you, Ren."
His hand now caressed up the length of her thigh, making her shudder. "Won't you, Rey?" he asked, his sensuous mouth drawing closer. "Then push me away. Make me stop, you have the power to."
And she did, she knew it. But somehow, she couldn't bring herself to use it. Not yet. Despite who he was, what he'd done, his hand on the long, lean muscle of her thigh was evoking an odd hunger, making her lick her lips, as his own drew nearer, the firelight playing off the vicious scar bisecting his face.
Rey hadn't ever been kissed, she didn't know how. The first touch of his lips against hers made her shiver and close her eyes, as he carefully coaxed her into returning the pressure, the feel of his lips nipping and playing at her own, forcing a gasp from her.
Passion. It burst onto Rey's senses, flooding through the hatred and the longing, somehow fusing them together until she felt insensate with it. She felt the same wash through Ren, as she raised a hand to those damned curls of his, threading her fingers through them and tugging his mouth back to hers. She felt the warmth of his tongue against the seam of her lips, pressing inside and succumbed with a shudder.
Like the teacher he longed to be for her, he taught her how to kiss him back, and she realised with a thrill, that just as she'd overwhelmed him on the battlefield, she could do so here as she sensed the surge of lust within him. She felt herself being pushed back, Ren's body pressed against hers as the hand not tangled with his hair rose from its death grip on the cot's edge to clasp his back, feeling powerful muscle flex and swell against her palm as he moved against her. They fit together perfectly, making Rey catch her breath, pressing her head back into the pillow to stare up at him.
"We're made for each other," he breathed, his voice raw and husky with need. "I know you feel it too. Don't be afraid."
Fear spiked in Rey's blood at his possessive, fanatical words as she shuddered and closed her eyes to Ren's face, to his lips swollen by her kisses and his hair tousled beyond repair. With a surge of will, she pushed him away, out of her arms and out of her mind, although not far enough. She felt his rage and his frustration, as she forced herself awake…
Her training started the next morning. The island they resided on wasn't large, and was rocky and treacherous for anyone but a Jedi to navigate. It was only her burgeoning Force awareness that allowed her to avoid spraining her ankle or worse while following Master Skywalker on his morning runs, leaping from tor to peak, letting the Force lift her up, letting it teach her to soar through the air like a bird. During such runs, her mind was clear and empty, filled with nothing but the Light of the Force. Sometimes, they swam in the ocean, swimming from island to island throughout the morning.
The afternoons were given over to study. Luke gave her texts, holocrons recovered from ancient archives and Imperial custody, teaching her the philosophy of the Force, opening her mind to a side of the Jedi that she hadn't guessed at. It was challenging, academic philosophy wasn't exactly a necessary survival skill on Jakku, but a part of Rey found it interesting. What was more, it gave her body a rest from the strain of being initiated so brutally into a world she'd never experienced, allowed her mind to process everything that had happened to her in the past few weeks, since finding BB8 on Jakku, even while her body slowly grew stronger, her figure filling out from painful thinness, to a strong slenderness, still muscled and lithe, but no longer so emaciated as before. It wasn't what she'd expected, but she was grateful for the reprieve, as her lightsabre lay untouched in the chest. Rey felt the tranquillity and quiet of their island retreat seep into her bones, giving her a sense of peace she'd never known before.
It was only a shallow peace.
At night, the dreams continued. Ren never infiltrated so deeply as he did the first time, but she felt his presence constantly, like a burning shadow at the very periphery of her mind. As the days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, she never felt him leave her.
Her training did not always satisfy her. From a purely academic perspective, the Jedi philosophy was interesting, but Rey couldn't help but see flaws in it. Apart from their morning exercises, she struggled to reclaim that cool clarity she'd found while fighting on Starkiller Base, that had guided her hand to victory.
She could feel Master Skywalker beside her, a luminous, transparent window onto the Force, empty of nothing but it's will. "You must clear your mind, Rey," he told her softly, voice barely louder than the chilly breeze that whipped their robes around. "Consider your emotions; let them wash over you. Then let them go."
Rey frowned, her eyes still tightly closed. "But, Master, how can you do that? I understand the need for logic, to be rational but how can you just…let go of your emotions?" she asked, boldly.
"Fear, anger and hate are dangerous, Rey," Master Skywalker advised her patiently. "Even love, longing and desire are dangerous. Let compassion be your guide; let it help you but not rule you."
"Is that how you defeated Darth Vader?" she asked, annoyed by the vague simplicity of his answer. She understood the need for detachment, since many times it had kept her alive, but other emotions also had their uses.
Skywalker sighed next to her, but still nothing penetrated his serenity. "No," he breathed. "No, even there love had its uses."
Rey frowned, wishing she could understand, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see Master Skywalker looking down at her from beneath his hood, eyes gentle and sad on her face. "Come, Rey," he told her. "We have done enough for today."
Rather than go back to her texts and holocrons, Rey spent the afternoon helping Chewie with maintenance on the Falcon. The basic technical work soothed Rey's annoyance and impatience, reminding her of simpler times when she would have ripped all half-decent parts out of a ship like this and sold them for food. She idly wondered what had become of her makeshift home, her belongings. Someone else had probably moved into it by now. They were welcome to it, but Rey still felt a sting of regret for the things she'd been forced to leave behind. She knew it wasn't a very Jedi attitude to take, but those things were more than just possessions, they were reminders of where she'd come from, and what had made her who she was. The past couldn't be wholly unimportant, otherwise why had the lightsabre come to her?
A thought niggled in her mind, and she couldn't quite find any way to dispel it. When evening fell, and Master Skywalker called them to the evening meal, her frustration only grew.
The nights were turning wintry on their ocean planet, so even within the safety of the caves, Rey felt herself shivering as she readied herself for bed, slipping under the blanket gratefully. She watched the flickering shadows from her fire for a moment, trying again to find peace but her mind flickered like the flames, with frustration, annoyance and uncertainty. She watched the flames a moment longer, watching light and dark somehow fusing as one, before huffing discontentedly and turning her head away. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
He came to her again.
She could feel his weight on her lower body, the heat of him like a thermonuclear furnace against her bare legs. Underneath the blanket, he pressed heated kisses to her abdomen, his strong hands holding her legs apart, as Rey writhed against his tongue.
Everything in Rey's rational mind screamed to push him away, that letting him kiss her had been dangerous enough, without this too. But the feeling of his tongue on her skin, his hands holding the flesh of her thighs so firmly yet tenderly, was making thoughts of stopping difficult. Unlike kissing, Rey wasn't a stranger to lust, to the need for physical satiation. She'd taken care of her own needs often enough, after puberty had hit.
"Kylo…" she gasped, arching. She felt his satisfaction at hearing his chosen name on her lips, as his lips and tongue began to trace a wet path down her stomach, to the wetness gathering between her legs. One of Rey's hands slid into his hair, beneath the blanket, clutching tightly.
The first touch of his tongue against her made her arch up with a gasp, making the blanket slip down her torso. Her breasts swelled and ached in the cool air, tingling with sensation as Ren reached up one hand to cup, and then knead one breast.
From the moment Rey had felt Ren's presence, a coiled tension had started in her stomach, radiating out towards her arms and legs. With every glide of Ren's tongue, every kiss and thrust, he was building the tension in her body, making her writhe against him, utterly abandoned. His power surrounded her, like a heated, malevolent cloud masking her senses until they narrowed down to just this, to just him.
She felt him moan against her, and she shuddered, as release beckoned. That tension finally boiled over, and she felt her back arch as her mind was wiped blank by bliss, Ren's mouth mercilessly pushing her through her climax and back down to earth. Her body still shuddered with aftershocks, as she blearily saw Ren appear from underneath her blanket, towering over her as he climbed up her body. His mouth glistened with her pleasure, and his eyes were burning, his hair tousled from her grip. His chest, muscled and scarred, brushed against her overly sensitive breasts, making her gasp and whimper.
He tasted of her. The sensation was erotic on her tongue, as he kissed her ravenously. She could feel him hard against her thigh, as she let herself give in to the hunger in his kiss, pressing it back on him tenfold. As he drew back, some modicum of sense returned despite how much her body hummed with bliss, and she eyed him suspiciously.
"That was presumptuous of you," she breathed. One dark brow quirked in amusement.
"I wouldn't have been able to if you hadn't let me," he whispered. "Doesn't it get exhausting, constant denial?"
"Hark who's talking, Ben," Rey snarled. She felt his rage at her use of his birth name, then felt unease as he tamped it down, rather than letting it consume him and push him into one of his infamous outbursts. He turned it into ruthless intent, as the hand that laid on her stomach reversed direction once more, sliding between her legs. Still sensitive from his earlier attentions, Rey felt pleasure edging into pain, as his fingers slipped into her damp folds, teasing her clitoris until she was gasping, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Don't test me, Rey," he breathed against her lips. Defiantly, she glared up at him, as he groaned at the feel of her body reacting to his attentions. An idea formed, as a wicked grin grew, and Rey slipped one hand down his torso. She could still feel him, hard against her hip, and inexpertly wrapped her hand around his shaft. He shuddered and bucked into her palm, and she could sense his surprise at her audacity.
"You shouldn't be so shocked," she gasped against his lips, as she tightened her grip, relishing the feel of smooth skin that nevertheless felt as hard as durasteel. "That's what I'm here for."
"Yes, you are," he growled. "You were born to be my curse."
He kissed her, hard and fast, before she could answer in typically caustic fashion. Slowly, she began to pump in time with the rhythm of his fingers against her, and then inside her, as she moaned and cried out, arching into him. His lips left hers, gliding a wet trail down her neck, fastening on where her pulse throbbed. Flashes of heat washed through her, adding to the second release Ren was so skilfully building in her; she hadn't realised her neck was so sensitive. "Why have you come back?" she gasped, through gritted teeth.
"You were frustrated, annoyed," he replied, between hot kisses against her neck and collarbone. "Annoyed with yourself, annoyed with Skywalker. You let me in."
"No, that can't be-" Rey tried to think, tried to rationalise, but her mind was swiftly turning to a sorry mess, eager for nothing more than the next burst of pleasure from his fingers inside her. Her hips were rocking into his hand, and she increased the rhythm of her hand along with it, drawing a pained groan from Ren's mouth.
"I told you," he bit out, hips moving in time with hers, his breath becoming more strained as he neared his own release. "We're bound, Rey. You can't block me out, you don't want to."
"Now who's in denial?" Rey replied sarcastically, gritting her teeth against another moan. She was quickly losing the desire to talk, to pointlessly argue with him when she needed release. Now!
"Let go, Rey," he breathed, leaving her neck to hover over her lips. "Let it take you over, just let go."
Once again, Rey sensed his power like a dark cloud, felt his need like rage, his confusion like urgency. They clouded her mind, leaving behind nothing but the need. With a shudder and a cry, she tensed against him and then slumped, only slowing the movement of her hand when she heard and felt his cry of satiation in her mind. His weight fell atop her, pressing her into the cot. Unconsciously, she pressed a kiss to his throat, all but purring in contentment. She felt his amusement and his own contentment, beneath his exhaustion, as he drew her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "You learn fast, my Rey," he whispered, just before he kissed her, his passion seemingly never-ending, as Rey clasped his shoulders tightly and returned the kiss.
Her own passion was just as inexhaustible.
In the cold light of day, the thought that had pulled and pricked at her before surged once again to the fore. It refused to let her go, but thankfully it kept Ren at bay. After their last mental encounter, Rey knew it was imperative she keep him away. It wasn't that she was in danger of succumbing to his seduction, not in the sense that he would succeed in turning her to the Dark side, but because he was proving too much of a distraction, and a danger. She had to remember what he was, who he was. And who she was. That was all they could be.
Rey finally learned to quiet her mind enough to satisfy Master Skywalker, but she never found it easy. At last, several months after she arrived, they were finally going to move on to combat and lightsabre forms.
In the middle of the deserted village she'd climbed through on her arrival was a wide, flat space, free of debris. There she met Master Skywalker, her lightsabre at her side.
"You're ready to start learning the different forms of lightsabre combat," he informed her, with a gentle smile. "I know that you already have some…practical experience, but now we have to balance talent with technique."
Rey recalled the clumsy slashes and stabs of her fight with Ren, before her communion with the Force had given her the instinctive knowledge to beat him. She inwardly agreed.
"So," Master Skywalker continued. "There are seven basic forms of lightsabre combat, with variants of each, but we will focus on the basic techniques until you have mastered them."
He pulled two wooden staves from the folds of his cloak, throwing one to her. Rey caught it reflexively, stowing her lightsabre back on her belt ruefully.
"First there is Form I, or Shii-Cho," he began, raising his own stave. Rey stood beside him and copied him, using her peripheral vision to copy his every move. Even Form I, the most rudimentary and basic of the lightsabre combat forms, was intricate and required every ounce of concentration she possessed. As the hours passed, and she drilled over and over again under Master Skywalker's gimlet eye, her muscles burned and sweat drenched her tunic.
As the light began to fail, he called a halt. "Enough, Rey!" he called. "You have done well, for your first lesson. Every morning I expect you to run through the drills of Form I after our exercises."
Rey set her stave down, panting. "Thank you, Master," she gasped, remembering to bow. The motion was alien, but she did so to show her respect. While she wasn't sure if she liked him or not, she respected him immensely.
They finished for the day, and Rey stumbled back to her quarters, aching and exhausted. After washing, she quickly fell into a deep sleep, undisturbed by any night time visits from Ren. Even if she did feel like someone lay with her, stroking her hair as she slept.
After a month learning, Form I, her Master began showing her Form II. Strengthened by her drills in Form I, Rey began to pick it up easily. He also progressed her on to training with remotes, spending countless hours fending off bolt after energy bolt with her lightsabre, twisting and twirling through the motions as easily as breathing. Unlike her difficulties with meditation, Rey found it easy to feel nothing as she fought, to let the Force flow into her and give her strength even when she knew she'd passed beyond the limits of her body. She found she enjoyed Form VI greatly, the style requiring a longer stave reminding her of her fights with her pikestaff. And each night, she was too exhausted to let Kylo Ren into her mind and resume his pursuit of her. She sensed his frustration, but also he too was preoccupied. Somehow, she guessed he was being prepared and trained further, just as she was.
The thought that refused to leave Rey festered in her heart, colouring her perceptions of her Master, as they trained and meditated together. Soon, she wouldn't be able to hold it back any longer. Jedi eschewed pride, they forsook possessions. But Rey needed answers. She was owed that, at least.
The summer sun beat down on Rey as she trained with her staves, mimicking a duel in which she fought with a lightsabre in either hand. Although she was far from a master, she was learning to combine different Forms together, to maintain her unpredictability in battle. Her favourite form remained Form VI, but she was quickly learning to combine it with Forms IV and V. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realised with a jolt that she'd been on the island for over a year.
She still had no idea if Finn was alive, or Poe, or how the war was going. She could guess, from her continued flashes of insight into Ren's mind, but he could be deceiving her. She'd felt him become far more balanced, although the confusion and pain plagued him still. Despite his crime, his sin, there remained an ember of light within him still.
Just as there were shadows within her.
At the thought, she stumbled slightly, feeling her tunic stick to her back from sweat.
"Rey, enough!" Skywalker called. He beckoned her over to him, and she stowed her staves and bowed before him. "I can feel your mind, Rey. You're troubled, distracted. A question has been hovering in your mind for months, ever since you arrived here."
Rey wasn't surprised at his perceptiveness, he was a Jedi Master after all. She just didn't like people looking in her head without her knowledge. Having Ren permanently stuck there was bad enough. But finally, she might get some answers. "Yes, Master," she began respectfully, yet eager. Shyness overtook her, but she forced herself on. "Master…who am I?"
Her Master's lips quirked, a slightly sardonic grin that made Rey's heart lurch. She'd seen it before, as phantom memories of heated skin and blissful pleasure washed through her. "There are many interpretations to that question, young Rey."
"I know," Rey nodded to herself. She was discovering that herself. "But…what I meant to ask…are you my father? And if you're not, who are my parents?"
Luke Skywalker regarded her piercingly for a few moments, making her uncomfortable. "What makes you think I am your father?" he asked at last, curiously.
"Well," Rey swallowed hard, marshalling all her points in her mind. "The lightsabre. It belonged to you, and Anakin Skywalker before you. Kylo Ren is of your bloodline, when he stretched out his hand to take it…it should have gone to him. But it came to me."
"And?" her Master prompted gently.
"I am strong in the Force. I defeated a descendant of Anakin Skywalker several times, without training, used the Force without knowing-" Rey continued, before Master Skywalker cut her off with a gesture.
"I understand your need for answers, Rey," he sighed. "But in this instance, I cannot give you the one you seek. Yes, the lightsabre that once belonged to me, and my father before me, chose you. But it was not because you bear my blood, Rey. The Force chose you. Yes, you are remarkably strong in the Force, but it is not because you are a Skywalker. It is because the Force created you."
Rey's jaw dropped.
"You are like my father," he continued gently. "A being conceived by the midi-chlorians, to re-balance the Force after Snoke and his followers unbalanced it."
"Y-you're sure?" she asked. Skywalker nodded gravely.
"I have felt it in the Force. With your awakening, the Light is resurgent. And in any case…" her Master paused, before shrugging nonchalantly. "I have never been in any situation to father a child. It is not the Jedi way."
"You mean, you've never…loved anyone?" she asked curiously, aware that her question implied more than just physical love.
"Not in the way you imply, Rey," he murmured, looking away and Rey sensed his discomfort. "Love facilitated my father's fall to the Dark side. There is a reason the ancient Jedi eschewed attachments."
"But it was also love that helped your father return to the Light," Rey argued. "Without it, he would never have redeemed himself."
"Without it, he might never have fallen," Master Skywalker replied.
"I don't believe that," Rey breathed. "If what you say is true, that I'm like Anakin Skywalker, born from the Force itself, then it was always inevitable. You cannot re-balance the sides of the Force unless you accept the warring sides of yourself. I think he had to experience them himself before he could reconcile them."
Skywalker stared at her. "That is dangerous reasoning, Rey," he breathed. "By that logic, then you too are destined to fall to the Dark."
Rey fell silent at that, but in her heart she disagreed. Her Force bond with Ren flexed in her mind, at the thought she dared not voice. If I am the child of the Force, then so is Kylo Ren, indirectly. His grandfather was Anakin Skywalker, his mother the daughter of Anakin, a Force-sensitive who never trained as a Jedi, but Rey had sensed her power from the outset. With him already fallen to the Dark, then it would make sense for another to stand in the Light, to restore the balance. Right?
But Rey wasn't sure, as Master and apprentice fell silent, and the waves crashed unceasingly against the cliff below them. She could feel her Master's disquiet at her words, but couldn't shake the feeling that she was right, somehow.
He returned to her dreams again, that night. Rey wondered if their connection only opened when she was angry, or frustrated, weakening her defences enough to let him in.
But he was there, watching her from the doorway of her quarters once more, while Rey sat on her cot and watched him. Something was different, something had changed.
Rey wondered whether it was a result of their last encounter, or whether it stemmed from the first moment his lips had touched hers in the sanctity of their bond. She could feel him, every quicksilver pulse of emotion, every shadow, and that tiny, infinitesimal ember of Light that remained within him.
And she knew he could feel the same in her. Her emotions, her frustrations. Her Light, her darkness.
Something had shifted.
"You've changed," he began, staring her down. "You're afraid, Rey."
"So are you," she countered softly. "Killing your father hasn't stopped the pain, has it? You're still torn."
He didn't answer, as she stood and went to meet him, just outside the circle of light from her fire, in the shadows. She couldn't read his eyes in their shared dreamscape, but she didn't need to. She could feel his emotions as if they were her own.
An infection she couldn't cure.
"And you," Ren began coolly. "Rey, your fear grows daily. Fear that you are not enough, that you can't be enough. That you are doomed to fail."
"So we're both afraid," Rey breathed. "But unlike you, my fear won't rule me."
She felt his surge of rage, but instead of the violence she'd have expected from him, once upon a time, he hauled her into his arms and kissed her. Immediately, Rey reached up to pull him closer, her hands tangled in his hair.
His kiss was harsh, biting against her mouth, as heated as if she was kissing a thermonuclear furnace. His body burned against hers, and she shuddered violently. She was long past denying it, denying him the fact that when she was in his arms, things became simpler. No longer were they Sith and Jedi, enemies on the opposite side of the board, but rather two halves of the same whole. The Light and the Dark, embodiments of both, but whereas Rey sensed Ren was still so lost, so torn, unable to reconcile the Light within him as well as the Dark which had consumed him, she was coming to accept her own darkness. She remembered her thoughts from that afternoon, her reasoning that had so disturbed Master Skywalker, and felt their rightness sink into her soul. She was darkness and light combined, like the fire beside them, but she would not let the darkness rule her.
That wasn't her role.
She felt the edge of the cot against her legs, and let herself be pushed back onto it. It immediately felt far more comfortable and cushioning that she could remember it being, and she shivered at the feel of cool silk against her heated, bare, skin.
She reached up to pull him down with her, felt his skin against hers as if his robes had melted away along with her own training tunic and leggings. In their dreams, they didn't need to worry about wasting time disrobing. Their lips met and clung, feverishly, as Rey writhed beneath him.
Their bodies joined effortlessly, a mere prelude to the merging of their minds. As ecstasy built under her skin with each powerful thrust, each joined buck of their hips, Rey felt his mind bleed into hers, blurring the lines between them, pouring his darkness into her even as she radiated her light into him. Two sides of the same coin. Joined. Balanced.
"You'll fail, Rey," he breathed against her neck, as he kissed the long column of her throat. "You'll never become a Jedi. You have fear, anger, and hate within you. You have passion, beyond that of the Jedi to handle. It's inevitable, just give in to it. Come to me."
"No, I won't" Rey gasped, arching up into him, twining her legs around his waist. "I won't fall."
"Neither can you rise to the rank of Jedi," he growled. "It's not who you truly are."
As release beckoned, Rey forced him to look her in the eye, their lips brushing with every syncopated breath, every blissful thrust. "Then I'll find another way…Ben," she whispered, seeing the anger and the pain wash over his face, and into her, even as he surged into her one last time, and they both broke.
As Rey ran through her drills the next morning, in a corner of her mind that remained detached from what she was doing, she inwardly pondered why she had yet to tell Master Skywalker about her dreams.
She feared it; she did. For the first time, she'd found somewhere vaguely resembling a home, even though Rey knew it could be only temporary. Already, she could feel the call of the Light, back to the fight, back to the people who needed her, with or without Master Skywalker at her side. But she feared his reaction, his rejection. He would react with shock and distaste, consider her tainted by the Dark side. A liability, a danger.
Another failure.
Rey had come to care for her Master dearly, but even she could see that in many ways, he was too indoctrinated in the traditions of the ancient Jedi. But it wasn't the ancient philosophy of the Jedi that had turned Vader and destroyed the Emperor. It hadn't been Luke releasing all his emotions that had saved his father, and himself. At the crucial moment, the very fulcrum on which he had teetered, almost falling, he had refused to fall. Luke had acted on his emotions, but he hadn't let them rule him.
A middle ground, between the Sith and the Jedi.
But the other was the sense that her bond with Ren held its own kind of sanctity, an echo in her mind whispering not to speak of it to anyone whenever she considered it. When she was with Ren, in their minds, everything fell away. Despite their petty attempts at playing enemies- and they were enemies, damn him!- the fact was that when their minds joined, nothing mattered anymore. Ren's betrayal, his crimes, Han's death, Finn's injury…they almost ceased to exist. In the waking world, Rey felt their sting as she woke each morning, but in their dream world…they weren't even Rey and Kylo, they were Light and Darkness, the two sides of the Force joined in harmony. It felt destined, it felt right, it felt…balanced.
But how could she tell the last Jedi Master that? How could she explain herself, when she barely understood? Even while her skill with meditation had improved, she sensed she was only just scratching the surface of a truth ignored or buried by both Jedi and Sith alike.
"Rey, enough!" Skywalker's voice rang out across the square they used as a training ground. Rey relaxed from her last position, idly twirling her stave to a resting position as she faced her master. He looked uncertain, his sad old eyes resting on hers piercingly. Rey flinched at his scrutiny. "You are troubled, young one," he sighed, and at the moment, she saw the façade of the great, legendary Jedi Master fall away, revealing the tired, disillusioned old man beneath. "You've been troubled, haunted by some burden, ever since you arrived here."
"Master, I-" Rey began respectfully, but Luke abruptly cut her off.
"I know about your bond with B-Kylo Ren," he told her, and she gasped. Shame filled her, and she lowered her head. "His presence surrounds you like a mist. I feel his presence in the Force, every night, when he comes to you. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I…didn't know how to, Master," Rey muttered. "I can't explain it. Despite everything he's done…I don't know how to explain it."
"Kylo Ren is a direct descendant of Anakin Skywalker, a child conceived by the Force itself," Master Skywalker stated gravely. "It's no wonder that you feel the pull so strongly."
Rey flinched away from thoughts of her own strange parentage. She preferred not to think of it, the idea too painful to contemplate. It was the only part of Jedi detachment she succeeded in.
"From the moment he entered my mind, and I entered his…" Rey trailed off. "There's still Light in him. I can feel it."
"And he can feel the darkness in you," Skywalker interrupted her firmly, with a dismissive gesture. "You're playing with fire, Rey. Letting him into your mind, letting him influence you-"
"You think I'm so weak that he'll be able to turn me?" she demanded hotly, forgetting her Jedi detachment. "He won't turn me, he can't! Yes, I have darkness in me like all beings in this galaxy, but I'm not ruled by it!"
"You are afraid, you have anger, you have passion!" Skywalker countered. "This is not the Jedi way. They will lead you to the Dark side!"
"As they did you?!" Rey demanded, trying to force her anger away. She felt his shock at her audacity, and nodded. "And like you, I will turn away every time."
"Rey-" he began raggedly, and she could see she'd shaken his vaunted Jedi control.
"Enough, this isn't getting us anywhere," Rey cut him off, inwardly shocked by her own boldness. Her voice was cool, calm and controlled, the epitome of Jedi restraint, but her words and her thought were anything but. "I need to think. I'm sorry, Master."
She bowed deeply, placing her stave on the floor before turning and walking away. Through the Force, she felt Master Skywalker's shock, his pain and his anger, but she couldn't bring herself to turn back and apologise. Not yet.
She'd promised him she wouldn't succumb to the Dark side, a vow she'd keep, but first she needed time to cool down. As did he.
I guess not even Masters are as immune as they like to pretend…she thought ruefully, as she climbed the steps, moving away from the village. She felt her bond to Ren flex in her mind, as he sensed her own frustration and anger, but she denied it connection. She needed time alone, not more time with him to muddy the waters. For all their sakes, she wouldn't give in.
She climbed to the highest point of the island, as the sea breeze whipped her loose hair around her face, where it'd come loose from her training knot. The sweat chilled on her skin, and she sank down to the ground gratefully.
Doing as she'd been taught, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, calling all her emotions to the surface. She acknowledged her anger and her frustration, but dismissed them as unneeded; she exhaled and blew them away with her breath. She felt her fear, and studied it. Yes, she feared Skywalker's rejection, but she would not let it pull her to the Dark side. She'd always been alone, if he pushed her away, she would simply strike out on her own. Just as the sweat dried on her skin, the fear dissipated too.
She felt the Force all around her, in the tiniest molecule in the air around her, in the soil and the rocks beneath her, in the roar of the waves as they crashed against the cliff hundreds of feet below. She felt its chaos and its pain, at being so divided and unbalanced, the Dark like a choking cloud reaching towards her. She sternly stood her ground against it, forcing the suffocation away and breathing deeply. She could feel Snoke, like a brooding, swollen mass of malevolence and rage bestriding the Force, and she knew he could sense her.
But he could not touch her.
Her mind was barred to him, and she felt his impotent rage at her defiance. She couldn't stop a swell of smug satisfaction at that, but put it aside. Drawing away from Snoke, she could feel Ren.
Unlike his Master, he was not as malevolent. He was like the shadow of night, just touched by the first light of dawn. It swelled within him, a hardened nub of light that could so easily burst into flame. Ren's murder of his father hadn't snuffed it out. If only he could see that if he let the flames of his anguish and his anger ignite that ember, he would see what Rey saw.
The more she searched, the deeper she looked, the more certain she became. \|There was middle ground between the two sides, the two extremes. There would always be Jedi and Sith in the galaxy, but they needed a balancing point, a fulcrum.
Suddenly, she felt a shiver of power wash over her, as a voice spoke inside her head, a familiar one she remembered with an ache of recalled pain. Rey…
The lightsabre. The old man and the young man, both bearded, both powerful and wise. Rey, these are your first steps…
Instinctively, she knew who he was. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."
She opened her eyes and stood, spinning smoothly to face the shimmering, transparent blue Force-ghost of the old Jedi Master. The ghost smiled softly, inclining his head to her. "Hello, Rey."
"I heard you, when I first touched the lightsabre," she continued, and he nodded again.
"We've waited a long time for your coming," he told her. "You need to be careful, Rey. You stand on a precipice. One wrong move, and you will fall."
"I know," Rey breathed.
"You must finish your training with Luke. It's the only way to defeat Snoke and restore balance," Obi-Wan continued gently, but Rey stiffened at that. "You have much anger, young one. Your hatred and your passion have become muddled, clouding your mind. You must let it go."
"I didn't ask for this," Rey replied coldly. "I didn't ask to be a Force-sensitive, I didn't ask to be bound to Kylo Ren."
"I know," the old Jedi sighed, eyes downcast. "For the sake of the galaxy, you must accept it."
"I have accepted it," Rey said firmly. "Just not the way you deem I should. There's another way, Obi-Wan."
"Many have tried to find a middle way, between that of the Sith and the Jedi. All have fallen," he warned her. "If you step down this path, you will condemn all to perpetual darkness."
"Thank you for that vote of confidence," Rey muttered sarcastically. "But I can't do this. My training will keep me alive, but it won't stop Snoke. The ways of the Jedi couldn't stop the Dark before, and that hasn't changed. It wasn't your training, or Master Yoda's, that turned Vader, it was Luke's refusal to turn. He accepted his darkness, and then refused to be ruled by it. He showed Vader it was possible. So can I."
"You are more of a headache than Luke or Anakin ever was," Obi-Wan sighed impatiently, making Rey chuckle. Suddenly, a second blue-edged ghost shimmered into view, as shock lanced through her.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Anakin Skywalker smiled at his old friend and master, as Rey stared at him.
"I'm just surprised I didn't go grey earlier," Obi-Wan sighed.
"Anakin Skywalker," Rey breathed. His eyes turned to her, and she detected both shame and hope there. Something about his features seemed distorted slightly, as if blurred, unlike the clarity of Obi-Wan's ghost. She could sense his presence in the Force, and shuddered. Both light and dark, at once. "You know I'm right."
Anakin sighed. "I know that balance can't be attained by one being alone, not for long," he told them. "With my fall and redemption, I achieved both, but it was too easily disrupted by Snoke and his followers."
"That's what Ren and I are, aren't we?" she asked. "We're the balance, the fulcrum."
"You could be," Anakin agreed. "If you can convince my grandson to accept his Light, as well as the Dark. It won't be an easy task."
"I know, but this destructive war between Sith and Jedi has gone on too long. Both sides have failed," Rey declared coolly. "There has to be another way."
Anakin stared at her for a moment, and Rey fought back the urge to fidget. "I don't think you're going to win this one, old friend," he murmured to the man stood next to him. "And I think she might be right."
Obi-Wan sighed. "I fear you're right. You are our last hope, Rey," he turned to her, with a kind of exasperated affection in his gaze.
Rey, however, was staring at Anakin accusingly. "Why have you emerged now?" she demanded coldly. "Your grandson idolises you, or rather the wrong side of you. Why haven't you come to him like this?"
"Ben will not accept me," Anakin told her patiently. "I can't force him to see what he does not wish to. That's your job, now."
"Figures," Rey sighed, taking a deep breath. "You know I need to do this."
"Rey, beware the Dark side!" Obi-Wan cautioned her. "Your way might be right, and your emotions do you credit. They could also be made to serve the Dark, as Ben Solo's were. Don't give in to hatred and fear."
"I won't," Rey said, firmly with all the air of a solemn vow. Obi-Wan sighed, and then smiled tiredly at her.
"Good luck, young one," he told her. "You carry the hope of us all."
"Help Ben find his way," Anakin added. "And you'll find your path. Good lucky, Rey."
Both ghosts vanished, as Rey became conscious of another presence watching her. She spun around to find Master Skywalker watching her, an expression of deep yearning on his face. She felt the deep well of love within him, for both the men who stood before her in their ghostly forms, and her heart ached for him. He'd lost so much, and Rey was determined that she wouldn't. She would break this cycle of loss and sacrifice, and find a new way. A better way.
"Master, I-" she began respectfully, but he held his artificial hand up for silence.
"I know what you plan to do, Rey," he told her quietly. "I'm not sure if it's the right course, but you must follow your own path. I've taught you all I can."
With a deep breath, Rey took the lightsabre from her belt and knelt before him, offering it to him. "This belongs to you," she whispered, as gratitude filled her. "It served me well, but I think it's time for me to construct my own. Take it, Master."
Luke took the chrome weapon gingerly, before looking down at Rey gravely. "Your path is a dark one, Rey," he breathed. "And I can't follow you on it. But I will do what I can."
"You're returning to the Resistance?" Rey asked, dumbstruck. Something like amusement punctured the sadness in his eyes, and he nodded.
"Eventually, I will," he told her. "When I am ready. But first, I have one last thing to teach you, Rey."
Rey's eyes searched his.
"I still believe that your bond to Ben is your most dangerous weakness," he told her, raising a hand to still his objections. "And, possibly, your greatest strength. But if Snoke realises the extent of your connection, he may try to use it against you. Ben himself might use it to find you, in time. You must learn to block him, for your own sake and that of the Resistance."
Begrudgingly, Rey nodded.
"And since you intend to tap into the darkness within you, I will teach you an old Sith trick," he continued, shocking her anew. "In the days of the Old Republic, the Sith used this often to mask their presence, to protect themselves from detection by the Jedi Order. It might help you, in your future battles."
Wordlessly, Rey rose from her knees and flung her arms around him, hugging him tightly. She felt his own shock, then warm affection filtered through the Force, and he hugged her back. In that moment, she knew she loved him despite their disagreements, and she would miss him. She sensed his own need for affection, after being starved of it by his self-imposed exile and solitude, and his yearning for his sister, Leia. Although she wasn't blood, she felt his own growing love for her and reciprocated it wholeheartedly. This was what family meant.
At the very edges of her mind, she felt her connection to Re-…to Ben reach towards her once more. With a growing will, she vowed then and there that she would bring him home too.
To be continued…