A/N:

I have never felt the need to write for this fandom until I saw The Last Jedi. Now I can't stop. Spoilers for the latest movie (you've been warned). And let me just say that I am anxious for feedback. My goal for this story is to update once a week.

I have spent entirely too much time on Wookiepedia this week...

Contrasts of Fate

They are running and she still feels him in her mind, still cannot shut out the dull ache in her head that reminds her that he's close although they are now jumping star systems away. The pressure binds her to her seat, makes her knuckles curl and her fingers grip the edge of the armrest to the Falcon and she thought this would be gone, that Snoke's trickery would vanish when he was sliced in half, but of course she knew that was already false. How they fought together was not luck or finesse or skill. They are connected and she does not know if that tether would ever snap. Her breath is still caught in her throat, adrenaline still, pump, pump, pumping and Finn is then in front of her, eyes wide but a smooth smile on his face. "So you're a Jedi now?"

The emotions come in dueling waves; she doesn't know if she wants to laugh or sob, hug him again or run away screaming. Her brain is numb and so, so tired, and Finn swallows before deciding for her, dipping his body so that she feels his heart hammering firmly on her chest. "Master Luke is gone."

She doesn't know why this is what she says but it seems like the best answer. She is then sharply aware that they are not alone, not even close to being along as people thrum and move around her, getting comfortable on the bridge, wondering how far away they are moving, if the First Order is behind them, if Luke Skywalker had really saved them all, if Rey…

Her own thoughts cover over the words. She focuses on the Force, and how different it feels, how empty. Her mind is searching for that one bright spot among the stars, and there is nothing and she feels her body bending, her arms go lax, and Finn is wiping something from her cheek. "Let's get out of here."

She doesn't know where they'll go. The Falcon is filled and brimming with nervous energy, but she follows him down the hall, ignoring the stares and pats on the back except for an empty grin on her face.

"Are you okay?"

It's a loaded question and her response is one-part defensive, one-part curious. "Who's the girl?"

His gait becomes stilted, but Finn recovers quickly and types a code on the keypad. The door whirs open to reveal a room that is the size of a broom closet. She doesn't mind. She sees the bed and wants to fall into it or, better yet, wake up from whatever dream this must be. Master Luke is gone. Snoke is gone. Kylo…

Kylo Ren is still very much alive.

She sits on the bed and Finn pulls over a chair so that they were across from each other. She pulls herself back so that her back is straight, flushed against the cold metal wall with her boots dangling barely off the edge, stock in front of Finn's easy frame. "I feel like I shouldn't be sitting."

She understands the sensation all too well. It feels weird not running for her life, not navigating through the chaos of battle or being at the controls of one or two parts of this ship. And she knows she should feel grateful for this brief pause but her thoughts keep running and diving and sometimes she is too overwhelmed by the darkness, too blinded by the light. She needs a distraction. "That girl?"

"Rose?"

"Rose?" She echoes, and the smile on Finn's face is small but everything she needs to know. "She's with the Resistance?"

Finn nods and the crackle in his body dissipates and then floods back. He's shaking his head and then his eyes catch her easily. "Rey, where have you been?"

He knows the answer, and she knows that is not the question he's asking. She tries to keep her voice flat. "I was aboard the Supremacy."

Finn waits. She waits. Her muscles tinge against the stark metal and the wave of exhaustion hits like blaster fire. She doesn't know how to explain this, how to make it sound reasonable, rational, and she doesn't think she can even if her brain weren't fried and fading. Finn bites his lip before sliding next to her. The bed is small and her body flumes with the warmth of him. His hand rolls over the top of hers until the groves of her fingers are filled with his and her chest settles as she remembers this is Finn. She does not need to make this sound reasonable or rational or anything except for the truth. And it spills from her.

"I've been seeing Kylo Ren."

"Seeing?" His face quirks. "As in like with your eyes or…"

She doesn't let him finish the thought. "Like visions only he can see me too. We can…communicate."

He doesn't say anything, and she has to wonder why this is what she starts with, not Luke denying help or Snoke bridging their minds or how she fell into the darkness and pushed and shoved her way out. Finn is a surprisingly patient listener or maybe it's the shock value that's causing him to be mute. His fingers are cold against hers but he doesn't move. "Do you?"

"Not often. Not…purposely. It just happens. The first time, I was alone and then I could just sense him. He was there in front of me." She exhales and sweat beads down her neck. It feels good, cathartic like sewing up a bloody wound, to tell her friend. "I thought he was there to kill me."

"He wasn't?"

She's shocked by the question though it's perfectly reasonable. Why wouldn't he be? But he wasn't. He was just as surprised as she was, equally confused by the presence in his mind, her image in front of him. "He didn't expect it either."

"Then how…"

"Snoke." It's an odd answer, and when she says it, it almost sounds like an excuse. She scavengers for the pieces in her mind, tries to make sense of them all, but it doesn't work. It's not fitting right, and every part of her is frustrated with it. "He bridged our minds, but I don't understand how. I've never even met him before." That thought should be scarier but she doesn't feel it.

Finn is for her. His face reads aghast and then he's suddenly leaning over her. Their hands break contact and his are on her shoulders. "His power is immense, Rey. Sorry, was."

"I know that." She knows he's trying to be helpful, explanatory. The frustration still bubbles in her. She has seen the Dark Side of the Force and it does not feel like her experiences with Ren. It does not feel like the cold, exploding darkness, the all-encompassing, almost choking embrace of night. Nor does it feel like the Light, the sun, the shell-shock glamor of white and brightness. The word almost escapes her until she feels the tug in her chest, murmuring balance.

"Why did you go to him?"

There's weight there too, but she ignores the other implication. She sees Finn barely believes it himself, but he's just making sure, just checking if Rey is still Rey, and she is and she is not. He's different too and how long had it actually been since they've seen each other? Months? Weeks? "I wanted to convert him."

"To what?" He sniffs, head shaking. "You wanted to convince Kylo Ren to join the Resistance?"

"I wanted to convince Ben Solo." Her fingers run up and down her knees. "I know it sounds dumb but I saw things in his head, Finn. I saw light." And he saw darkness in me. She thinks back to Snoke's throne, the alien cut in half and bloody, red bodies of guards torn asunder by her and Ren. She thinks of his outstretched hand, the look in his eyes, and yes, she wanted it too. She wanted all of this to stop but not by power or control or want. She is no deity to be worshiped, to reign over planets and people. She is nobody, and the darkness still stirs in her.

"But you're okay now." Finn is convincing himself more than her. "Snoke is dead. Whatever bridge he must have…"

She's shaking her head and he stops talking. The confusion is on his face now, but it vanishes, replaced by concern. "Can he see where you are?"

"No, just me."

"Good." He nods his head. "Does the General know?"'

"No."

"Just me then?"

"I'd prefer to keep it that way, Finn." She hasn't thought about telling General Organa, and now that it's there she feels guilty for it. "I can't see where he is either. Or…choose when I want to talk to him. It just happens."

"Do you think it will stop?"

No. It cuts through her. She did not know when it started, nor is she sure when this will end, if it even could. When he's dead. She clenches her fist at the thought. When he's dead I'll never have to think of him again.

Her head slumps down until it is on Finn's shoulder. He strokes her hair, pulling the brown strands behind her ears as she starts to focus on her breathing. She wants to meditate, to clear the thoughts from her mind completely, but Finn is too warm and meditating reminds her of Master Luke too much and soon she is crying. She cries against his shoulder, and Finn does not move or say a word.

Hours later they are still in hyperspace. Rey does not know where she is going, nor does she feel like she can move from the spot against the wall. Every ounce of her body is drained but she can't find the calm to sleep. Everything is flashing in her head over and over and over again. Finn had left several minutes before to scrounge for food, and her stomach surges in anticipation. She hates feeling like this, paralyzed, overwhelmed. She moves to the floor and crosses her legs, exhales and tries to rest her shoulders. She closes her eyes and sees blackness, darkness, with spots of light simmering into nothing. She breathes again and sees a pale face and nose. She sees curled black hair and dark eyes, and then she is awake and anxious again. He's not here. He is not even here through whatever bond formed between them. I'm getting paranoid. She moves back up and stands, does squats. Her body is sore but she persists. Her eyes carve around the room to see if there is anything she can rip apart, but the walls are simple, bare. There is only the bed, a chair, and a small dresser, so she opens the dresser and sees thin pieces of grey fabric inside. They are all too small for Finn.

The former Stormtrooper comes back, a piece of bread in one hand and a thick green liquid in another. He offers them both to Rey immediately, and she grabs it before reclining back down, cross-legged, gorging on the food.

"Slow down. There's only one real bathroom on this thing. You can't hog it with your indigestion."

She immediately slows. Finn sits down next to her and she wipes the crumbs off her mouth with her forearm. "Are we going to land soon?"

Finn shrugs, but it's tighter, less relaxed than his normal posturing. "You can ask General Organa. She asked me to come get you."

"Come get me? When?"

"Um, I would say right now. She just caught me in the hallway outside. I'm told to bring you to her after you finish." He picks up the cup with the green liquid and hands it to her. "I think this is supposed to be the nutritious bit of the meal."

Rey raises an eyebrow. It bubbles and smells like dirt, but she chugs it anyway before she gets to start contemplating the taste. "Let's go then." She bounces up, ignoring the pain in her muscles now that she finally has a task, a purpose.

They walk to the bridge together. The Falcon is quiet, and Rey wonders how off-cycle she is if this is the presumed night aboard the starship. On the bridge, Chewie is still flying the ship, Poe Damaron sleeping in the seat next to him. The General herself is seated at a small table, her hands folded, her breath desperately trying to stay even. She looks uncomfortable, and Rey opens herself up to the Force and slams the door back shut when Leia Organa looks at her, eyes narrowing. Rey is nervous then, but she holds her back straight and nods. "General Organa."

She rises and holds out a hand to the chair across from her. "Rey, please sit. We haven't had the chance to talk." The bridge is empty besides the four of them, and soon Finn is also leaving when the General gives him a sharp look. "You look better, more rested."

Rey doesn't feel that way, but she nods in agreement. "Thank you, General Organa."

"I'm sorry about my brother."

The air restricts around her. That was not her apology to say. This woman sat so tall, shoulders proud, chin high, but Rey could see the dark circles tattooed on her pale skin, the wrinkles carved from worry around her mouth and forehead. I am sorry about your brother, your husband, your son. Leia Organa was terribly Force-sensitive, and there were points in time when Rey had wondered why she would ignore that part of herself, why she would choose the life of a senator and wife over the unchartered power of a Jedi Knight.

That isn't confusing anymore.

Rey wants to grab her hand but she sits back in the chair instead. It takes everything just to maintain eye contact. "Master Luke saved us all."

"You had a small part in that as well." Her tone is sarcastic, a breath away from acerbic. "I wanted to thank you as well."

"I wish I could do more."

The General's eyebrows rise as she realizes what she is implying and Rey does not move to correct herself or elaborate. It's true, and her own smile quirks when Leia replies, "Maybe you can."

"How?"

"I want to end this war." She says as if she is explaining it to someone for the very first time, as if this is some hidden secret that could not get out. Leia realizes the jerk in her posture, the quake in her voice and continues, "The Resistance was founded to protect the New Republic from a reemergence of the Dark Side of the Force. The New Republic is gone but can be rebuilt. Snoke is dead." Her palms fall flat on the table. She does not mention her son, and Rey does not move to speak. Leia drinks from a glass of water. "I felt my brother's disillusionment with the Jedi teachings. He is…" She falters. "He was a powerful man."

"The ways of the Jedi have not died with him."

"Haven't they?" Leia stops a laugh and flips her hand over. It takes Rey a few more moments to realize she is reaching out to her. She hesitates before moving her right hand on top of the General's. There is a sharp intake of breath from both sides, and Rey stiffens. Her signature is powerful, bright, familiar, and it leaves her gasping. Leia coils her other hand on top of Rey's. "How many times have you met my son?"

"Twice." Physically.

Leia nods though her eyes are narrow. "Once he tortured you. The other he meant to turn you into Snoke."

"Yes." Her voice is hard, rough.

"Once you resisted him. The other, you helped him kill Snoke."

"Ben killed Snoke." She regrets saying his name as soon as it leaves her mouth. The blood from Leia's face is gone and she is ghost-white.

Her voice does not falter. "Do you know where he is?"

"No." Her answer is honest.

"Can you feel him?"

She hesitates this time, curves her head to the door to search for Finn. She thinks he tattled or that Leia just simply knows, but the General only smiles at her before retreating her hands back to her sides. "I can feel him too. I feel him deep in space somewhere, Rey. He's there."

"Sometimes it's bright," she murmurs and is unclear whether or not the sentence would shock Leia, but it doesn't, of course it doesn't. Rey can maintain eye contact again but it takes swallowing and crossing her arms across her chest before she feels comfortable, less vulnerable. "Sometimes when I feel him, I am overwhelmed by the pain he is holding and I think I can banish that pain and the darkness may be gone. He is not a shell." She swallows again. "Snoke was a hollow shell of black, but Ren is just…"

"Broken." Leia sniffs. "Even in his current resolve, he is fragmented. The Light and Dark are not balanced but only parts in him now."

"I think he's the First Order's new leader."

"I know he is. The real question is, what do you do with him?"

It's posed as a question, but Rey maintains her silence again. This is not something for her to decide. She does not know anything about war or politics or punishment. She does not know why Leia thinks she does but after seconds of quiet she says, "I could kill him."

"Could you?" The question is flat, dispassionate. Leia is objectively curious and her emotions are a strange merge of relief and discontent when she realizes Rey is confident. "Then that is an option."

Leia is waiting again, and Rey is frustrated, awkward across from the high-ranking woman. She thinks she has supplied Leia with the answer she wants. Luke is gone, but she is not. She knows how to fight, has bested Kylo Ren before, but still the woman looks at her intently. Her frustration fumes out. "I don't know anything about strategy when it comes to these things."

The Falcon jerks it's way out of hyperspace. They are minutes away from landing. Chewie growls from the pilot's seat and Poe is awake now, rubbing his eyes and lamenting about the customized landing gear. Leia grips the side of the starship's walls as it putters through atmo. Rey is holding on to her seat to remain upright, her stomach curling. The General is not bothered, not even surprised by the sudden drop from gravity, the screech of breaks and steam hissing around the bridge.

When the Falcon stops, General Organa stands from her seat, face cool. She smooths the wrinkles away from her jacket. "This isn't about strategy."

.

.

He tries to hunt her with the Force, but he sees nothing, only traces, only pushes and shoves and focused thoughts of stay away. She's right; he should stay away. She was nothing to him but a link to the Resistance, a touchpoint to locate where they were going and smash them completely. Rey. He calls for her, but the bond never worked that way. She is not something he could summon to him, and the frustration has him bang his fist on the side table, smooth his hair back before standing in his room.

He can't believe he let them get away. He let that fucking fool distract him from the actual prize, let him manipulate and tease him like he always had, and now he was stuck on some Imperial-class Star destroyer. The Resistance has done damage, irreplaceable destruction. The Supremacy was gone, as was Snoke's seat of power. They have no formal planet base or capital, and the list of allies land-bound were thin and silent.

We need to rebuild. Hux had suggested Cantonica, but First Order sympathies ran shallow and loud. He would not risk his operations in such a place of flagrancy. Nor would he agree to anything Hux suggests. Watch him. His gloved hand tinges at the saber on his hip. Hux is useful. His mind works for war and only war, and Kylo needs that. He knows how something like the New Republic ticks, like the Resistance. He knows about democracy and freewill when it comes to government because that is what Leia Organa had prescribed in him. Everything else had been fear and darkness. Everything else had been Snoke.

He is not Snoke.

He is beyond that. Beyond the way of the Sith or Jedi and just fighting with himself. He cannot prescribe to anything but power and for that he needs to learn.

So he's patient when Hux hashes through war strategy and supply demands. He listens as his admirals paint pictures of propaganda, of the sheer and utter chaos the Resistance is in now. How they can go and find the Millennium Falcon and blast it out of the sky.

He really wants that too. He wants to see that ship on fire, see it sparkle and crack into dust and then nothing but black, black space. Kylo searches the Force for Rey again.

Her signature is hypnotic white. He feels her energy too easily, too simply, even if she is kicking and screaming from his presence brushing next to her. Where are you? He asks again, but the bond is not there. He feels her, but it is loose, thin. It is more sensation than reality, and Kylo let's go of it fully. He is back in his makeshift room, and his mind reflexively looks for his mask. He panics, standing and shifting through sheets and drawers before remembering he had cracked it. The mask is gone.

I am not Darth Vader.

The mirror is in front of him then and he sees the sweat in his hair, the now shallow scar that had once burned his flesh from Rey—no—Anakin's lightsaber. They had destroyed that lightsaber, him and that girl. They had destroyed a past he has been running towards for so long, and for what? A glimpse of his—their—future?

She saw it too. The image burns through him even now, a harsher fire than any saber cut. It would be idiotic to deny that they are connected, their destinies intertwined, but to what? Destruction would be his first guess. She could destroy him and he could her. They could end each other, though the future he saw was anything but that.

She was there, beside him, orange sand rolling over them in waves, her hand, small and calloused, clasped in his. They were there in the middle of the storm, the sun falling into the darkness, and he had felt that power. He could still feel that power envelop him, and he has no idea how to find it again.

He flicks the cape from his shoulders, removes the leather from his hands and feet and the belt tight around his waist. There are no distractions then, no heavy weight of wool and black, and he falls into Lotus on the floor. Kylo Ren is not good at meditating. He is good at fighting and feeling, but removing all and every thought from his head is something he struggled with since the onset of any training.

Even now, his thoughts are rampant, screaming. Where do we start? Where do we start?

And then there's an answer, a voice in his head that soothes his soul, a brush that feels like sun and gravel on his cheek.

The beginning.