A/N: I've wanted to write this idea after seeing the opening piece of Force Awakens.


Clairvoyant

In the house on top of the plateau, the silhouettes of robots and humanoids flitted past windows in an attempt to salvage Kylo Ren. The former Knight of Ren had renounced his allegiance to the First Order and killed Snoke during the scrimmage with the Resistance. If it wasn't for Rey and Chewie, he wouldn't have survived the collapse of the Finalizer.

Rey sat down upon the edge of the plateau overlooking the base, which was fit to bursting in a party. Fireworks arched over clouds and exploded into glittering dust. If she leaned back on her hands, Kylo Ren's shrill cries would surpass the heavy bass from the music below.

She could make out the orange suits of the X-Wing pilots below, the people Finn would be celebrating with. The two hadn't exchanged words yet since the Resistance's victory but there was time for that later. For now, she knew he wanted to be with Poe.

"I'm surprised you aren't celebrating with them." A voice both far away and close by murmured. The Force buzzed with the owner's strong presence.

"Hello?" She spun around - and upon seeing her visitor, scrambled up to her feet. He was a man in Jedi robes. A very transparent man in Jedi robes.

"Relax," the apparition said as she raised a staff up at him. His voice accent was the same as hers and she lowered her weapon suspiciously. "I'm merely a spectre. I can do nothing to harm you as I am now."

There was something familiar about that voice. She decided to sit upon the wooden bench and furrow her brows at the old Jedi.

"And who are you?"

"My name is Obi Wan Kenobi." He smiled and inclined his head.

"Obi Wan Kenobi?" Her eyes lit up in amazement despite her reservations. "The old commander during the clone wars? You taught my master."

"I did. But those tales are for another time." He waved that thought away, and walked up beside her seat. "I'm more interested in you." He stopped to stand and look out at the celebrations. When the fireworks lit the sky, they shone upon his wrinkles as though he were real. When the light faded they left blue shadows, like a hologram.

"Interfere with the living, the dead should not." Yoda had told him.

Yet, while they had the ability to impart their insights would it not be shameful if they stayed silent?

Books written by dead men and women and gentle creatures had played their part in the lives of the living. Books for new Sith to destroy, books for new Jedi to bring order, and books for everyone else caught between the dichotomies. Obi Wan thought he deserved to have a say with the living.

"Written when living, books were. Dead words, ghosts speak."

Rey took a sidelong glance at him, then after a moment, decided to answer his earlier query.

"It's all over, now." Rey whispered. "Everything we've been trying to do for the past few years. It's ... It's all done. I don't know what to do now." Rey turned to face the celebrations below her again.

"There is plenty you could do." Obi Wan said quizzically. "You could help rebuild the Jedi, establish order in the galaxy ..." That was what Luke had tried to do before.

"Me?" Rey laughed. "Well, I suppose I could help. But ..." She lowered her staff onto her lap and examined it. "That's not quite what I wanted from all this." She murmured.

Obi Wan raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Before I met BB8 I was a scavenger on Jakku. Nobody. Now I'm a Jedi and - I'm still nobody." She avoided his gaze and Obi Wan decided not to interrupt.

"I waited so many years for a family to belong to. Then I came here and ..." She finally looked into his eyes and he could see exasperation and curiosity if he knew what she meant. "And I still feel like an outsider, despite everything I've done."

They both turned their gazes back to the hut behind them when Leia screamed for Chewie to hand her something. It seemed Kylo Ren may have asked for water.

"They love you, you know." Obi Wan spoke gently.

"I had to prove myself." Rey turned to the celebrations dully. "If I was any less capable I'm not sure they would have been as happy to bring me onto their team. If I hadn't been able to wield the Force, I wouldn't be here."

"That's true." He agreed. "You would probably have been killed by a Stormtrooper, or worse. You've gained respect through merit. A worthy accomplishment."

"Yes but I wish I hadn't had to, you know? Like ..." She gazed back towards the hut. "A family that loves you no matter what you do. Simply the fact that you're related by blood is enough."

"What about your friend, the ex-stormtrooper?"

"Finn," Rey laughed. "Every time I mention the word family his eyes twinkle and he talks about Poe. I don't know if be truly understands."

The silence stretched like horizons on this desert planet. Between daily tasks, exercises and meditations, he found endless time to reflect. The present was so monotone that he rather preferred living in the past. Memories of war, the other Jedi, Anakin … were haunting mirages appearing wherever he walked.

"If I had known my own parents, would I have been able to help Anakin?" He wondered. Would he have been able to empathize with his loss, understood what caused Anakin to be so turbulent?

He would spend his evenings gazing out at bloody sunsets through dirty windows and sipping tea. Only through blaming himself did he find a real semblance of control about how he had ended up in this situation and secretly, he relished the pain. It was a relief from the dull sand and loneliness he was getting accustomed to.

"I see what you mean." He said softly and Rey scrutinized him.

"You didn't have a family either. You were taken when you were young, weren't you?"

He acknowledged it with a nod.

"Did you ever try to go back and look for them? To find out who they were?"

"Wonder yes. Travel, no." Obi Wan adjusted his robes. "I doubted they would know who I was. I had my master and the other Jedi for family."

He gazed rather sadly at her when she looked down. "I'm scared," she admitted. "Of looking for them."

"You know," she said after a pause in the fireworks. "You're named after him." She motioned at the hut.

"Ben Solo," he murmured. "I was very honoured. He renounced that name for a while though, didn't he? I'm not quite sure how I feel about that." And he felt unexpectedly pleased when Rey chuckled.

"Do you think it'll be peaceful in the Galaxy now?" Rey inquired. "It never seems to be very long until something disastrous comes up."

"You're right. Patterns emerge through history. Only immortals seem to see the repetition."

"What should we try differently then?" She asked him.

"I'm not sure." He folded his arms warily."Your first steps in any path are bound to be uncertain."

Rey's eyes widened and she got to her feet hastily. Memories from years ago resurfaced in a rush.

"These are your first steps." She breathed.

Voices glowed and lights echoed. The crash of the red saber rushed. Only a voice penetrated the confusing din … These are your first steps ...

"You were the one who spoke in that vision." She stepped towards him slowly as if a trance. He should have faded away into the Force, but he found her gaze hard to break away from.

"Who are you?" She asked. It felt like they were standing in their own reality. The sounds from the party and the people in the hut had muted so she only had to whisper to be heard.

"An old man." He tucked his chin in his chest so that his beard hid his lips.

"Why did you appear in my vision?" she didn't relent. Obi Wan found he couldn't bear to face her and turned his body so that he faced the gently darkening forest skies.

"I met my first Padawan on a desert planet. He was resourceful, skilled and full of potential. He could destroy enemy ships on his own." he murmured.

"My second … Mentee was much the same. He came from the desert, was brave, and destroyed a star base himself."

"You were much like them. From the desert, Force sensitive … I knew you could play the role well. I decided to push BB8 towards you. And you've lived up to all my expectations. Patterns are repetitive and only immortals notice them so they -" ghost breath caught as he looked at her. "Allow dead ones to guide the living." She was utterly shocked.

"So you've been tipping me along this path all along?"

He hesitated before giving a shaky nod. "I helped the Force guide you to the lightsaber. But … I must say, most of the rest you did yourself."

Her jaw clenched. "No more meddling."

"I won't." He bowed his head and closed his eyes. "Do you prefer if I hadn't done anything?"

Rey blew a breath. "No." she sat down again in exhaustion.

He glanced at her in sorrow and finally asked, "Are you happier, now?"

Rey sighed. "I don't entirely know how to feel, exactly. Why did you do all this in the first place? You should be … Enjoying death or whatever it is you deceased Jedi do."

"I felt that I could serve the living as I am now. I'm not sure it was the right choice." he muttered.

"It was."

"Thank you for your forgiveness."

"You can't leave the living alone, can you?"

"Not when I feel like I am to blame." he murmured gently. In the muted calm it was easy to hear his words as well.

"Blame for what?" She lifted an eyebrow. To her surprise, Obi Wan turned to the house behind her with a face full of old regret.

"Everyone." And he was gone, riffling a flutter upon her robes. The sounds from around her rushed back into sharp focus.

Rey fell silent and turned back to the party before her.

Pawns had no titles to hold onto. They could scavenge a name for themselves but their past was hazy and insignificant and her battle was long over. What came next hadn't gotten any clearer. Patterns indeed. She was a pawn waiting for a new game to start unless she challenged that notion.

But for now she felt hollow. Like a ghost caught in a dimension between celebrations and the howls of Kylo Ren as R2 fixed his hand.