A/N: After writing Inheritance, I really wanted to backtrack and explore Ben Solo's journey to the dark side and do this with a little bit different style of writing than you may have read in my previous fics. (If you haven't read them yet, what are you waiting for? They're all complete and ready for your enjoyment!) You'll recognize a small segment that has been pulled from that story, tweaked and adjusted, and used here too since I found it so enjoyable to write and it is what inspired me to write this fic!

Enjoy!

edit: SORRY if you received a notification for "DUSK". This is the same story, just was published completely incorrectly!


The darkness had always been there, deep inside him.

But now it is awake.

And Ben is afraid.

...

Before he is old enough to form the words, Ben is haunted by nightmares. Shadows, dark shapes, indiscernible whispers without a name. He is reduced to tears before he fully wakes, his parents at his side moments after the first distressing howl. His tiny fist reaches to grip the soft fabric of his mother's sleeve as she lifts him from his crib. It acts as an anchor in a tumultuous storm of darkness and fear he is unable to comprehend.

She holds him tightly against her chest, whispering sweet songs of comfort close enough for her lips to brush against his small ear with every other word. His father brings his calloused hand to Ben's dark hair, willing the nightmares away with each gentle stroke.

They don't place him down until he once again drifts into a soundless sleep.

They return to bed, neither of them now able to sleep themselves. Both are afraid to ask the question out loud.

What's wrong with our son?

...

A war zone is unfolding.

Toys are scattered throughout the Organa-Solo residence. Fezzgams and play blasters are haphazardly strewn across the floor while Ben's abandoned tooka doll lies underneath the caf table, as if to have taken shelter from the surrounding disaster. No sooner than Han comes from around the kitchen counter with a tray of small glasses filled - Port in a Storm, only the strongest - for their guests does their son make his grand entrance. A diaper clad Ben Solo rushes into the living room as fast as his toddling legs could carry him, squealing with delight as Leia's protocol droid helplessly chases after him. A holo of ewoks dancing, chirping and singing a mindless tune unintentionally provides the perfect background music for the chaotic scene.

"Master Ben!" T-2LC drones, Leia imagines his best attempt at shout. "You are not in proper attire to receive guests!"

Ben pays no mind and rushes towards the group already seated at the couch. Lando gives out a booming laugh while Chewbacca harmonizes with his own throaty snort. In a swoop of her arms, Leia lifts Ben from the ground and onto her lap. He wiggles and squirms in her grasp, desperate to run free.

Han finally joins them in the living room, careful to place the alcoholic beverages out of reach from the toddler onto the caf table. Sniffles and hiccups warn of an impending storm. "Ah, come on now, kid…" He coaxes while pulling his son from his wife's lap. With one arm secure around the struggling Ben's waist, he expertly reaches into his back pocket to reveal his beloved gold dice in the other hand. The sniffles and struggles halt and Ben is momentarily distracted by their glinting surface in the overhead light.

The conversation continues as T-2LC leaves the living room, defeated, with a pair of infant pajamas in hand. Han catches Leia's eyes from across the table as their guests participate in their own side banter.

Han gives his trademark grin. "See? We got this."

Leia tentatively smiles as she brought her glass to her lips. Her intuition tells her that moments like these are fleeting. She enjoys them cautiously.

...

Ben Solo has Skywalker blood running through his veins.

No sooner than he utters his first words he is able to harness the Force around him. Borgeballs and toys become solar systems and he is the star at its center. Giggling, eyes bright with elation.

Cookies and honeycrusts are soon locked down under his parents' ever-watchful eyes.

Han is indifferent to his son's newfound abilities. Leia grows wary.

...

Ben wants to be a pilot, just like his Dad.

Afternoons are spent mulling over texts and blueprints of toy models. The Incom T-65 X-Wing, Z-95 Headhunter, T-47 airspeeder, and finally, a bit of a bias passed down from Han, any ships constructed by the CEC. Chewbacca tries to be of some help with assembling some of the more complex models but is only successful in getting the tiniest pieces tangled in his hair.

Han swears to friends that Ben's hands reached for the steering shortly after he learned to walk and he could rattle off figures and statistics before he could recite the Basic alphabet. When Han talks about his young son, he beams with pride.

Ben is now able to reach for the dice himself through a delicate balancing act between the dashboard and captain's chair. Sometimes when alone in the cockpit, Ben climbs for them just to hold them in his hand for a moment. His thumb rubs against the engravings, enjoying the cool aurodium-plated surface at the tips of his fingers. Then with a tight squeeze of them in the palm of his hand, he gives his fist a small kiss before hurriedly returning them to their proper place overhead.

His father scoffs at superstitions gestures like these.

Ben wants all the luck he can get.

...

The nightmares still come.

In the light of day Ben feels safer but far from alone. They visit him in the form of shadows, remaining just out of sight and at the back of his heels. He never full sees them, for if he focuses on them for too long, they dissipate as though to hide their true nature from him. Just out of reach. He knows they're still there from the hairs that raise on the back of his neck in warning.

At night, he is consumed by these visions. Darkness, fear, destruction, pain.

But Ben feels he is too old to be seeking comfort from his parents in the middle of the night. He sinks his face into his pillow to muffle the screams and cries.

His turmoil does not go unnoticed by Leia in the mornings following a particularly restless evening. There is no hiding the dark purple hues that have replaced the once rosy cheeks of her pale son's face.

His eyes avoid her worried stare as he pretends to be engrossed in the dish placed in front of him. He eats breakfast in silence.

...

His mother has it. His uncle has it.

Ben stares down at his open palms. He's exhausted.

He's been told it's a gift. His mother assures him he'll be able to control in due time with the proper training. Uncle Luke will help you, she promises.

But he longs to be normal. A New Republic pilot one day, his future days spent in the cockpit of a starfighter. It could all be so simple if he wasn't so…different.

He didn't have time to practice a dated religion some place far away from Chandrila. Away from home. A bit of a loner, he already finds it difficult to make friends in school. His peers can sense something is strange about him, although they struggle to pin point exactly what. Children are the most intuitive but also the harshest of critics.

He closes his hands into fists, tightening his grip until his fingernails threaten to draw blood.

For Ben, it feels like a curse.

...

"Mom? Dad? I'm home." Ben calls out into their apartment as he enters through the front door. The setting sun's orange and red hues fill the empty living room space as it splays across the unoccupied couch and coordinated accent chairs.

This is no longer a rare scene in the Organa-Solo residence and is one Ben Solo has come to expect.

At the sound of his arrival, T-2LC bounds around the corner from the kitchen in a flurry. "Master Ben! Welcome home!" He proceeds to rattle on, taking no notice of Ben's silence. "Your father is off with Chewbacca on some job and he failed to specify what and where, which completely negates my purpose as a household organizational droid – not that he ever concerns himself with such protocol." LC huffs. "I can't say I'm too disappointed – that wookie leaves hair everywhere. Secondly, your mother wished for me to tell you that she will be held up in center city due to an extended meeting with Mon Mothma. They are preparing for negotiations between Populists and Centrists on Hosnian Prime taking place in the next few days." He gives a shake of his head, his gears slightly creaking at the motion. "I don't know how your mother does it, Master Solo! I could never be a politician, though one might argue I am fluent in bantha fodder in addition to six million languages."

LC pauses after his profanity - not to catch his breath seeing he was a droid – as his wired eyes land on Ben Solo who is not budging. He is staring blankly at the empty couch.

"Master Solo? Why, you haven't even turned the light on!"

Seething and without uttering a word, Ben raises his hand at his side. A decorative vase beside the couch, a gift to Leia from another Populist senator's homeworld, hovers over the end table before suddenly crashing into the living room wall.

LC can only observe the shards of glass and porcelain strewn across the floor.

"Oh dear…"

...

Ben hears them behind their closed bedroom door at night.

His parents' muffled voices rise and fall, a crescendo of hushed whispers to passionate shouts.

There is no mistaking an argument.

There is no mistaking it is about him.

He sits a top his bed while listening, hugging his blanket over his knees. His mother now wears a constant expression of concern whenever she looks at him. His father remains stone-faced, the usual mischievous glint in his eyes seems to have all but vanished. He never asks Ben to accompany him on jobs aboard the Falcon anymore, although he seems to go on them more and more frequently.

He's avoiding home, he's avoiding Ben.

Ben's never felt so alone.

Chewbacca appears at the doorway of his room, announcing his presence with a low empathetic growl. Wearing a mournful look only a wookie could express, he walks slowly over to the bed to offer a furry hug to his co-pilot's only child. Ben accepts and buries his face into the gentle beast's matted fur. It's warm and scratches his cheeks. It's comforting.

Ben cannot tell parents that his nightmares have grown more frequent, the visions more vivid.

Hidden in wool of Chewbacca's thick coat, his tears freely fall.

...

It will be for the best, his mother assures him. His father silently stands at the doorway. He begrudgingly agrees with his wife, only because he doesn't know of any other way. He does not have the answer for his own son's turmoil. The heartbreak is etched in his features though never spoken out loud.

Trinkets and toy models of starships are placed away, discarded on the shelves of an abandoned childhood along with adolescent dreams of the future.

As if on queue, LC greets someone at the balcony door as Ben clicks his modest suitcase closed at the foot of his bed.

"Master Luke, so good to see you!"

After an exchange of brief conversations and pleasantries, his Uncle Luke guides Ben out onto the balcony with a firm hand placed on his back. Ben turns his head back to catch one final glimpse of his family standing at the door of the only home he's ever known. His mother, father, LC and Chewbacca are all there to see him off. Leia, still dressed in her senatorial best, clasps her hands in front of her. Her smile is encouraging though tightened as to not release the tears threatening to fall. Han stands beside her, his face stoic. Ben tries to catch his father's eye, one last pleading glance to not have him go. They don't budge and he and Uncle Luke finally reach the ship's loading ramp.

Ben hears Chewbacca's cries as the door closes behind them.

...

There are more like him.

They all don't look like him, however. Varying species that hail from all corners of the galaxy, the younglings' ages range from as young as five to early twenties. Their abilities and talents are just as diverse as their appearances.

Ben struggles to learn all their names, but they all know his.

Their reverence towards his uncle continues mystify him.

To him, Luke Skywalker has always been simply his uncle who visited his family's residence various holidays or gatherings.

In contrast, his peer students were raised on the legends of the illustrious Jedi Master Luke Skywalker in the form of bedtime stories and child's play amongst siblings and friends.

The expectation of his ancestry and the responsibility that it comes with weighs heavily on his gangly frame.

He's afraid of disappointing them.

...

Their days revolve around routine.

The routine is a comforting consistency as opposed to an oppressive mandate. Meals are eaten in the dining halls as a community. Sometimes, if the weather is nice, the young padawans are granted permission to take their lunch onto the rolling grass outside. Morning studies are often followed by physical training, including but not limited to mock saber duels.

A young Zabrak jousts his wood staff towards his Twi'lek opponent as the rest of the students in their age group watch on. The Twi'lek swiftly dodges his approach before dropping to the ground, only to swing her own staff at his knees. The unsuspecting Zabrak falls to his defeat, his weapon clattering onto the hard sand at his side.

The rest of the class politely claps as the Twi'lek regains her upright position, flipping her lekku casually behind her back. Rather than relishing the applause, she picks up her peer's staff along with her own and reaches out a free hand towards him. The Zabrak, with no hint of animosity, smiles up at her and gratefully accepts her gesture.

Luke Skywalker watches on with pride.

Ben finds he enjoys their time set aside for meditation most of all. The practice of quieting the mind and allowing the Force to freely flow through him puts his troubling thoughts at ease.

However, the voices return at night when he is most vulnerable, chipping away at his confidence and peace of mind as he sleeps.

Your family sees you as a burden. They jeer. They are happy to have rid themselves of you.

He misses his mother most of all.

...

"No!" A small girl howls helplessly. "Come back!"

Who is she?

Ben follows her desperate gaze up towards the blue sky, shielding his eyes with an arm just in time to see a small transport fire up its engines and make its final exit from the unfamiliar planet's atmosphere.

Where is he?

He turns his head to face the young girl again. In simple tattered beige garments and wispy hair pulled back in loose knots, she does not acknowledge his sudden arrival. Her tear stained face's attention is divided only between the departing transport and the Crolute who has a tight grip on her small arm.

"Quiet, girl!" It demands unkindly, ignoring her sobs.

Why are they leaving her?

Before Ben can intervene, the oppressive light of the sun blinds him, becoming a flash of white as the girl's distressed cries grow louder.

"Noooooo!"

"NOOOOOOO!"

He awakes from the sound of his own voice screaming, echoing the young girl's final desperate plea. He gasps and gulps, clutching his bed sheets in an attempt to anchor himself in reality. He's once again inside his quarters at his uncle's training temple.

The girl, the desert planet, the rumble of the ship's engines - it all felt so real.

The sickly feeling of abandonment that pools in the bottom of his stomach also feels familiar.

The haunting sound of her voice still reverberates in his ears. His eyes still sting from the bright flash of light. Once he catches his breath, Ben shakily raises his hand to wipe the sweat off his face but pauses as his fingers reach his cheek.

Amongst the beads of sweat gathered on his cheeks, there are grains of fine sand.

...

No one says anything to Ben, but they don't have to. He knows they have all heard.

His peers are careful to avoid him in recreational spaces and the dining hall. The only time he is acknowledged by them is during dueling practice, where he is always the last to be selected as a partner. Most meals Ben now spends sitting alone. He was never the most social amongst the students, but the isolation this news brings is oppressive.

Darth Vader, the most feared and destructive being in this galaxy's history, is his grandfather.

His mother and Uncle Luke's father, to be exact. With tensions rising between populists and centrists, the exposure of the dark truth was undoubtedly intended to slander Leia Organa's honor and lifetime dedication to the Republic. Although Ben should wonder how is mother was faring in all of this, he did not have much time to. Despite his Uncle Luke's best attempt to shield his nephew from the news, images of the past Sith lord and his mother are splayed across every HoloNet imaginable, to every corner of the galaxy. Not even his remote Jedi training temple was safe from the scandal.

Uncle Luke attempts to reach out, but Ben is quick to reject his advances. He knew, just as his parents did yet Ben discovered this terrible family secret along with the rest of the entire galaxy. His lineage is scrutinized by the public – and worse, his peers – and Ben suffocates under the weight.

He was deceived by those who were closest to him. There is no one to turn to now.

Ben is numb.

...

The voice return at night, as it has always done since Ben could remember. It has slowly morphed in time from shadows at the back of his mind in the form of faceless nightmares into a single entity. One voice now reigns. It soothes his fears, whispers words of encouragement; it assures him that he is far more than worthy of the respect his fellow students fail to give him.

Ben Solo will do great things, it hisses. Your parents, your uncle, all just fear your power. That is why you were sent away, abandoned. They wish to control what they do not understand. Ben Solo cannot be controlled.

Ben Solo will be the most powerful being the galaxy has ever known.

He falls asleep to a sweet, sickly lullaby of affirmation.

The voice now has a name.

Snoke.

And Snoke promises him many things.


A/N: A little different writing style than I normally do, but I'm enjoying it so far! Looking for it to be a two part story, as I often do, but I'll see where this takes me!

As always, let me know what you think! For complete fics, feel free to browse my profile.

XOX Rose