Summary: He was there, too, when Rey ventured into the cave. But he didn't see what Rey saw. This is a piece that focuses on fixing a few of the holes in TLJ. My take on the mirror scene. MAJOR SPOILERS FOR TLJ. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE.
A/N: I finally got inspiration! This is based off of one of my favorite scenes in The Last Jedi, the mirror scene. It may or may not turn out to be canon, though I doubt if it does it'll be exact. Also, this is it—no further chapters. I wrote this after my first viewing, so please excuse any errors that don't match with the movie. I'll try to think of an AU Episode IX after this, but honestly, TLJ left me so speechless even this was hard to write. Please enjoy!
Kylo Ren woke in a long, narrow room.
He could barely hear a snapping sound in the distance. It repeated over and over again, coming closer and closer—and yet somehow farther away at the same time. He thought he knew how it had been possible: he was standing in a row of men that looked exactly like him, with what looked like a mirror at the very end, past hundreds of standing figures. He also thought he knew who'd caused the noise to begin.
Don't make a sound.
If he could hear whatever was happening on the other side of the mirror, she could, too, and he knew it was a critical part in her journey for her to feel as if the surroundings were private. He wished they were—he was doing something rather important in the First Order before he'd woken up here. He heard her speak, but it echoed around too much for him to understand. He willed himself to advance his consciousness along the line, slowly bringing his sight to a cracked pane of glass: turns out, it was a mirror. He thought he could see her silhouette on the other side. He hoped she didn't recognize his figure. He idly wondered what she'd said.
He looked back from where he came, subsequently sending a wave of movement through his newfound duplicates. What he saw wasn't what he expected, nor, he presumed, fit with the royal theme of the room. A pair of scraggly-looking people were stumbling, making their way to him, and, he assumed, to Rey. He couldn't make them out yet, but a feeling if anticipation gripped him— what if he was finally about to find out the scavenger's heritage? What if he was about to find out where she got her abilities, where she came from, why she was abandoned? He didn't know why he felt the need to know these things, but he waited for the pair to arrive all the same, nervousness tightening his breathing.
They did, in time, and he found himself doubting that they were her parents at all. They had matted, tangled hair, and clothes so dirty he couldn't make out their original color. Though they were still several yards away, they smelled distinctly of stale alcohol. Their eyes were blank and dead. They didn't walk: they only limped fragilly. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew the truth now: Rey had no legacy. She was a nobody descended from nobodies.
And because of this revelation, he suddenly hated Skywalker, he hated Maz, he even hated Snoke for making her believe she'd been dropped on Jakku for a purpose. They'd forced her to cling onto an idea that had made her weak, an idea that he'd had to hide behind himself because of his family's legacy. She was no one, and she had no one. And, somehow, he'd found out before she had. He despised himself for it.
The scavenger's parents arrived at the clouded mirror, apparently not even aware that they had. He backed away instinctively to make room, maintaining his goal of staying hidden. He could see how it had happened now: they'd sold their only daughter, what would've been the light of their lives, for drinking money and left her to scavenge for parts for the rest of her days. They'd died soon after, leaving their daughter still clinging to the hope of rescue long after. He couldn't explain how, he just knew, and as he took another pained look at the pair, his fragmentented guess of Rey's abandonment was confirmed. He was dropped temporarily into a vision, where he took the point of view of the scavenger, screaming for her parents who would never return. Unwelcome remorse clawed at him when he realized how real the words he'd thrown at her during the interrogation were to her.
On the other side of the mirror, Rey edged closer. The answer to her biggest question was mere inches away. She was about to find out the truth, the full truth, about her parents, their reason for leaving her, and their fate.
So why did he feel so scared?
Was it because he knew what having a family abandon you felt like? Because, in his heart, he knew she wasn't ready to know the truth, though she thought she was? Because he didn't want her to know the truth?
Before he quite knew what he was doing, he gently pushed her parents out of the sightline of the mirror, flinching as they briefly turned transparent on contact. They began walking aimlessly away from the mirror, their blank faces turned away from their daughter. Though he knew they were only a projection, a memory, he strangely related to the scavenger at that moment. Their stance was comoarable to how Leia and Han had departed after leaving him with Luke to train. His parents had been subdued from a long argument that had to do with war plans and smuggling, and never turned around once. It had been the last time he'd seen them in years. They'd barely said goodbye.
He stepped back into the line of the mirror, praying to the Force ghosts that she wouldn't be able to see him. The frosted glass began falling away, and she pressed her hand to the mirror, desperate for answers. He knew he had to leave, he had to escape. She couldn't see him there. She'd blame him for the lack of answers, and for good reason, too. But he had no idea how to get out of this nightmarish world. Panic set over him like a dark cloud. Her face was beginning to show through the glass. Soon, she'd realize that it wasn't a mirror in the slightest. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the confrontation to come.
And suddenly, he was back in his quarters, standing shakily by his bed. There was no evidence whatsoever that anything had ever occurred. But when he brought his robes to his nose, he thought he could smell the smallest trace of Jakkuan liquor, the very scent her parents had clouded the room with as they'd passed by. It was real.
Sudden guilt plagued him—he'd been the deciding force preventing her from finding the truth. He'd done the wrong thing, and he knew it. He'd been like everyone else in her life since she'd left the planet, hinting and whispering of things she'd never be able to see. He'd done no better than Maz, Luke, and the rest. He'd failed.
I am now the only person in this galaxy who knows Rey's heritage.
The thought scared him, along with the looming responsibility that came with it. By protecting her briefly in that moment (and subsequently causing more suspicion and fear), he'd assigned himself as the one who had to tell her who they were. He instantly saw this as a cruel opportunity to turn her, as Snoke would've wanted, but couldn't imagine bestowing a burden like that in such a manner. He pondered this thought for several hours.
Finally, reluctantly, he came to the inevitable conclusion that the only way he could possibly tell her was in a way that was somehow... not Dark. He didn't know how, not in the slightest, but he figured he owed that much to the scavenger. He made up his mind to not try to turn her to the Dark, too, especially not by abusing the knowledge of her parents. The Force connection had been formed for a reason, he knew, and though he didn't quite know which reason yet, he was strangley anxious to find out.
A/N: So, what did you think? Make sure to leave a review, and favorite if you enjoyed. An Episode IX AU should be released in the following months. I'll have to see TLJ a few times and maybe even take notes once it comes to Netflix before I get inspiration for that. I've noticed other fanfiction authors are struggling, too. Sorry if anything was inaccurate. I tried, I really did. Also, Kylo may seem uncharacteristic in the last paragraph. That was intentional. Anyway, thanks for reading!