He looked so different.
Standing there on his toes, body tilted forwards, only suspended by his stretched wrists in shackles. Force sensitive repellent, he couldn't use his abilities to escape if he tried. His muscles frequently strained, and his dark clothes were dampened with sweat from the strenuous position, concentration, and the stuffy heat of the room. The beads of perspiration collected on his face, dripping from his long nose and brow bone, the droplets plinking into the steel grated drain beneath him.
To see the Kylo Ren restrained like this, humiliated, exposed, neutered and robbed of his abilities, his connection with the force muted was something bizarre. Unrealistic, prophetic and misleading like Force sensitive visions. Given the opportunity, this Knight Of Ren would strangle me with his own hands, regardless of abilities. Still his shaking struggling form drew me like a moth to a flame, a spectacle to behold. But it wasn't his lock down that woed me, it was his gaze.
His dark eyes pit less, soulless, they were eternal hellfire and all consuming void portals of rage, and they were locked on me. Locked in a deadly spark of damnation like heat seeking missiles shot from his personal TIE-Interceptor. I had seen the darkest fury in them, the bloodlust that followed a battle cry in the midst of a reaping, I had seen it all, his passion for his cause, his conviction, his manipulation. His insanity. But never before this.
Never before had I thought him capable of the empty that gripped my soul, that made me nearly keel and tremble.
Never remorse. He wasn't capable of remorse.
But still I could not fathom, how a man like him, could feel so much. His untamed and unruly hair fell to his eyes, the dark nailing me in place as he invaded everything in me. My mind was no longer mine, my locked emotions were tampered with, my body, nearly convulsed under the weight of his pain.
It was everything he dared never to speak of, his insecurities rushed like video clips through my vision, his failures gripping me with the same burning pain he felt exploding violently in his chest his brain, spreading down like pin pricks, his nerves over reacting. His deep sorrow, his betrayal, his regret and all of his pain and more, mine. The deep ache in his chest that hollowed him out, ate him whole, convincing his panicking mind that he deserved the hurt, the abuse inflicted upon him, that every scar was a lesson learned instead of a reminder for his insolence.
He was forcing himself to be devoid of emotion, of compassion, empathy, of trust, of so much more than what he thought to be the Jedi way, much more than the Force. He was throwing away his humanity in spite, confused at the prospect of death, he never once acknowledged the toll it would take on his consciousness. He refused to deal with the self doubt, with the fear, with his weight of expectations, his ruthlessness.
He had been robbed, and manipulated. And he got so good at using and manipulation others, that he wasn't aware he was doing it to himself.
His desires had long ago been ripped from his grasp, and his curiosity could never be quenched, his ever probing thoughts, his questions, never could have answers as he strayed, and followed the path of concealment. Of espionage, of deceitful motives, of murderous intent, the Dark side, thrived on ignorance, the lack of comprehension.
It stunned me to silence, how he had only been used like a pawn in a chess game for the Darkness, for Snoke. Kylo Ren sought power in a place that swore to give it, and what he got was a lie.
It was Ironic at best.
His motive to leave the Jedi temple had been exposed to me by my Master Luke Skywalker, once he had grown close enough he shared the secrets of the past with me. My lineage, who Ben was before he was Kylo Ren, and what happened. Kylo was ambitious, powerful, awkward and vengeful. He trespassed in the ancient library of the temple to gather any and all information available, simply because he was curious, and to him knowledge was power. Tomes were sacred for a reason, and once discovered Ben faced punishment. Luke believed it was what finally pushed his nephew over the edge.
My eyes focused again, this time on my enemy's face. It was squinted, thick eyebrows drawn together, his lips were slightly parted. He relaxed in the restraints, leaning forward more, letting the chains pull on his sockets.
It had been a year and nearly half another since we last saw each other, because though the thrum of thread, of a unmistakable bond between us, was ever present, it never lead us together. Luke had shadowed my link to Kylo Ren in walls, and we never once shared thoughts or visions or dreams. To see him now, was unnerving.
I watched silently as he lowered his head, a heavy smile on his lips, eyes falling to the floor before closing slowly. I had half a mind to wake him, but I knew he had yet to rest in captivity. It had been three days, I did expect him to tire eventually. His resilience however made me ponder the extent of his Sith training, what exactly they did to him. As now, he was a full Sith Lord and nothing less.
Then a low sound penetrated the stagnant air, unraveling the poisonous tension between us as he groaned. Dark eyes locked on my approaching form, tracking ever muscle movement in my body, to the muscles coiling in my legs and feet to my stomach, to my gently swinging arms. His scrutiny was unbecoming, something that gave away his disadvantage his unease at my presence at the predicament. Where as I felt my stomach flip a thousand times over every time he looked at me, if he felt uncomfortable I could laugh.
His eyes softened, lips parting more as he shook his head slowly, the sweat dripping in steady streams, carving a path along the surface of his skin. Face contorting as though someone were raising a striking hand to him, he hissed out painfully, "Why do you tease me so, Jedi?" His head hung and he shook violently, eyes narrowing on me as I stepped out of arms reach to him. I wondered what he meant by tease, and then remembered he had yet to sleep in three days. He must have assumed he was hallucinating.
Then he clenched his jaw, eyes closing as he struggled to reach out with the force, I could feel it, the resistance of his restraints, and he could too. His fingers wound around the chain, palms gripping the cold metal as his eyes opened and glared rage at me. I moved closer, watching his body coil like a serpent, feeling his newfound energy, his drive to kill me, to break free. He hissed, growling like a wild animal who had been wronged, "What have you done to me," It was a demand, not a question, he knew, he just wanted to hear it.
I leaned in close, watching him arch out his chest to me and sneer, his mouth was too dry to spit on me. His eyes narrowed disdainfully, taking me in as though I were sewage on his boot. His silence was both terrifying and welcomed, I needed to think.
Muscles flexing his body jerked when my hand sought out his chest, he squirmed, wiggling to escape my touch, my eyes. Slowly, painfully, my fingers ghosted up his sweating form, his tense muscles spasming beneath my palm as it climbed up his neck, thumb skimming the hollow of his throat. I kept my touch gentle, and tender, and I wondered in the back of my mind if he had ever been touched in such a way, if he could ever replicate the same motion, the same softness.
His eyes bore into mine, searching my gaze for my soul, rattling the gates, pulling hard at the lock. He couldn't understand, and his posture grew rigid fully once my fingers touched his jaw. Slowly I allowed myself to take in the long lightning bolt of a jagged scar, the light saber burn that sliced through half his face. He would kill me now, if he could, his thoughts revealed as much, and I knew he was projecting. My fingertips stopped at his lips, having traced every line of the white scar, my thumb gently pressed to his lower lip. They were thin, and soft looking. I had expected he'd bite them until they bled.
He moved his face away from me, and said nothing, I had made him uncomfortable. The thought made me smile briefly, but I frowned the next second as I remembered just what he would do to me instead had our roles been reversed. Then his voice carried, bouncing lightly off the walls, the deep sound matching his musk and sweat smell, "There's no need to be ashamed, Rey," My name was nearly a purr on his tongue.
"Of?" I asked him softly, resisting rocking back and forth on my heels, or messing with my staff. His head turned slowly, jaw working past his closed lips.
"I wear this scar as a reminder," He smirked, eyes growing cold, "Of the fury you really hold inside you, of your ties to the Dark side,"
"Those ties have been cut," I whispered tenderly to him, watching as he snarled at me. Arms pulling harder at the chains handing from the ceiling, he might have been strong enough at one point to break them, but he was malnourished and tired. I simply stared at him before saying, "I'm glad you kept it," His eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Now without your mask, I wont need to remind myself of the monster you truly are,"
"Then tell me Rey, how does it feel to be connected to a monster?" He demanded, voice raising quickly. Thoughts racing.
"I'm surprised you even recognized me, Ben," I said to him,
"Ben is dead, you'd do well more than a favor, explaining that to the general," He chided, gritting his teeth and glaring, huffing in my face.
"It its at the courtesy of the General that you are still alive Benjamin," He roared at my words, jerking violently and raising up, pulling with the chains by his hands, kicking me back with both feet to my stomach. I sucked in a breath, body crashing to the floor and bouncing before settling, several meters from where I stood. His form was shivering, trembling with uncontained rage. The ache in my ribs exploded as I moved to sit up, eyes landing on him.
He kicked with his legs, thrashing out like the wild animal he was, screaming in anger at me. It was his breaking point, that his mother still contained a form of mercy for him, that despite all his wrong doings, she was keeping him alive. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, hissing through my teeth as I shuffled to my feet, that he was aware of anyone else's emotions aside from his own. It could be I used his name, and he grew angry enough to attack me. He froze and panted, sweat dripping down his skin, body sagging and twitching.
My footfalls echoed in the contained room, my hand flying up to his chest, fingers digging into his skin and scraping as I bunched his sweat soaked apparel in my hand. His eyes hardened on my face, and he glared. He leaned in and smelt me, eyes staying on mine, a scare tactic, "How amusing it is to witness the prey prowl about the predator, as though she has won,"
"What battle is there? Ben?"
"You will say my name, vermin,"
"I have been," I say to him, leaning closer, my fingers gripping his chin, my lip curling, watching my thumb, press down on his lip, holding open his mouth. His breath fluttered, hot and heavy against my thinned digits. I watched in aggravated silence as his eyes fluttered and his shoulders slumped, head falling forward into my touch. Then I leaned over to him, eyelids heavy as my soft lips pressed to his clammy cheek. Body shivering at my touch, flinching at the proximity. Sensually, my lips parted, soft bloom of a rose, petals brushing his cold and scared cheek as I whispered, "Tell me Dark one, is it as good as your dreams?"
"Probing visions gives nothing but trouble, Jedi," He warned, voice much softer, broken, but deeper. Gravely he dragged my soul closer, a quiet whisper of want of proximity, of comfort, he wanted attention, and he nearly had mine, "Yes," I mumbled, pulling away from him, "See now where it got you, Kylo Ren," Our eyes locked, a fury of a storm kicked up, glass blowing sideways as eyes grew red, flashes of white and the reflection of innocence-they were kaleidoscopes.
Had I not been so close to him, I would not have caught the slow aching motion of his tears, squirming down his cheeks, his heavy lashes collecting droplets which sparkled under the bright light above him, above us.
Then he blinked, and the heavy tears plinked uncharacteristically to the drain beneath his feet, down his chin, jaw clenched. They were waterfall wishes of dread, pain, madness, wrath, and sorrow.
He let out a shuddering breath above me, face a few fingertips from mine, and he closed his painful eyes. Tentatively, my hand ghosted along his pale skin, tracing up the scar I bestowed upon him, an ever present reminder of my fury, my heartache. Thumb swiping away the evidence of his inner confliction, of his affliction.
A brush, subtle gust of air rushed between us, It goes both ways, open a door and never close it again. But it was never closed, cold air pin pricked the surface of my exposed skin, the air rushing quickly from my lungs eyes clamping shut in shock as a gasp pulls at my chest. I was breathless, confused, but he was done hurting, his connection with me restored, as of now, he could tell, as long as he touched me.
Dark orbs swam in rapid currents that threatened to pull him under, but nothing fell over his delicate eyes, his cheeks cleaned by the cloth in my palm. My lips parted, watching him watching me, hand brushing into his hair, fingers tangling, nails scraping his scalp. He shifted, as though he was attempting to get closer in his mind, and I smiled gently, "Don't be afraid," I whispered, pausing and leaning in, rose petal lips touching the magnetized electrolyte barrier between everything, pushing the attraction of the physical world, closed eyes he was expectant, and only stared at me. Eyes burning into my flesh, "I feel it too," Sizzling, a rapid climb in temperature, my skin shivered, spine tingling with electricity, the look he gave me was one of mixed emotions.
"Cooperate with me," I mumbled to him, still scraping through his hair, tugging gently at the back of his neck, a low growl surfacing from the back of his throat.
"Rey..." He warned, brows drawing together, jaw clenching. My eyebrows raised in curiosity, an uneasy feeling settling into a warm pool in my stomach, the toss and turn of the demon inside resolved, tired. My voice dipped, eyes narrowing a fraction of a second, fingers tightening in his hair, "Kylo," I nudged, watching his eyes peel open to narrowed slits. His lips were slow moving, developing into a lopsided grin, "You want a confession?"
"Perhaps, we could just talk," I suggest softly, eyes following the stressed muscles in his face.
"You know, I always wondered if you would have the same confidence in the bedroom, when you're withering and crying out in pleasure," Body recoiling like a reaction to acid on flesh, I gasped and pulled away from him, listening to him laugh, deep rumble of humiliation as I walked from the room. The door hissing open and bolting closed, airlocks sealing and sliding into place, his manic laughter following me down the hall, brushing over my shoulder like a narrowly missed thrown object. How sick is he?
There's nothing to save.
Lest I struggle to convince the General of this, her pacing form carving a worn path into the steel floor before her command desk.
Hands folded, back straight, body facing toward her, I watched as the dismay feel about her feet like sand. She was tired, and she had full right to be. The crusade against her son is lead by the Light, by the Jedi Order, Luke is no longer here to deal with such matters as a treasonous Sith Lord, his nephew, a murderer and scoundrel, charged with various war crimes and other things.
General Organa was left alone, heavy burden of choice weighing on her shoulders, pressure from the council in which she fought for, her orders to deal with the menace of Kylo Ren, who successfully destroyed half a system of planets with a star plasma absorbing machine of his own. His crimes, he needed to confess, Organa prayed his plead of guilt would rub the Council the right way, that they would spare him, choose to imprison him for the rest of his Sith life.
Those in power were simply fearful politicians, claiming anything out of their area of expertise to be impossible, my Force connection falls into that category.
Organa paused, her narrowed eyes falling upon my form. A swimming blue brown color, worrisome, fearful, saddened, experienced and dreading what is to come, she knows, better than I, the fate of Kylo Ren. Worn, tired, defeated but still hopeful, with the grace that she has, her hands wring through her hair, flattening the silver, red, and grey strands.
Heavily she sighed, boots dragging, shoulders slouching, body slumping into her chair once she got close enough. She struggled, forcing back an acid rub to the back of her eyelids, even closed they had no mercy. She knew the sentence Kylo Ren would receive, she knew by her orders the young man would have to die.
Her stings flexed, gripped, reached out in desperation, tiny metal hooks latching into my very being, pain shooting through my body. Her sorrow was gripping, destructive, and it threatened to rip even my own emotions apart. Resisting a keel, I grabbed her attention, "General,"
"You're the only one permitted to see him, what's it like?" She asked me suddenly, and I'm reminded, horridly, that this sweet curious, headstrong woman is the mother of the very man who sought to kill me. She was once a figure of royalty, still considered such as a title other than Resistance leader, and rarely, does she exploit said title, or distinguish herself as the lady like princess she was raised to be. Perhaps her fate was distinguished at birth, or likely altered as her choices in her life differed, as she joined her brother in the ways of the Force.
She herself was not a Force sensitive, not as much as Master Luke, myself or her son. She was inquisitive, critically interpretive, intuitive, clairvoyant among other things, she could pick apart a persons soul following a few exchanged words. She had a lot of respect, from myself, and those who followed her.
Her fingers curled into fists, her teeth gritting together. It was difficult for her to think of Kylo Ren, and ignore the fact of his natural birth from her womb, her fond memories of his fussing about before calming in her gentle hold, giggling as she made noises with her lips and shook her head at him. She remembered it all, and she wondered, worried, blamed herself on his horrific transformation. Desperate for a savior.
"He's no longer what you thought he was," I tell her, quietly. A shadow casts on her face, long and sorrowful.
"The light, I can feel it, faint, but it remains untouched locked inside him. I know it's still there,"
"General," My voice mutters patiently, she's holding on too tightly,
"Please Rey,"
"Your lack of parenting has destroyed him already, what good should happen upon you now that you decide it is time to woman up?"
"I was the best parent I could be for him!"
"You left him alone to him demons," My voice was strong, while hers wavered, "And they made a pretty feast of his insecurities, of his loneliness"
"Han was there to help me, it wasn't my fault!" She rises from her seat quickly, slamming her hand down to her desk,
"Guilt and pointing the finger absolves no ones regrets but your own, I do not stand with you on this matter General,"
"He's a murderer, he needs some help,"
"Yes," I clarify, "Not from you, as your absence is what put him in this situation now,"
"No," She huffs, glaring something fierce at my soul, barring me in place, giving me the pleasure of cocking my head in curiosity, "My son is still in there,"
"He isn't,"
"I didn't think.. Didn't know.. I thought he was fine Rey, just going through a phase,"
"Be that as it may, Organa, the only thing left of your son is his resemblance to you. He refuses to accept the name Ben Solo, and scars litter whatever skin is left of your untouched baby boy,"
"Rey, only you can help him," She states suddenly, weaving around the desk quickly, standing before me. Shock bursts over my features, the stress of the displayed emotion evident on my muscles. Her hands clutch at my arms suddenly, strong, vice like, maddened, "Please Rey,"
"He is a husk of rage and regret, there is nothing to save Organa,"
"Damnit Rey, for once just try in your life! He's worth it! He's my only son! Can't you be selfless for one second?" An unearthly calm washes over my body, muscles coiling under flesh. Straightening up, squaring my shoulders and blinking slowly, I answered her question. "Leia," Her eyes widened, and proceeded to prod me up and down, as though I were a fish out of water in which she was apprehensive of saving, "His greatest regret, is not killing you sooner, once he had the opportunity," Her lips pull into a shocked frown, eyebrows knitting together, "Having him here, only clouds and distorts your judgement on crucial situations, you may cause unnecessary casualties, my interrogation will elicit nothing from him, and you know this. Ultimately, his fate lies in your hands, and you know his sentence,"
"You don't know what you're talking about, you couldn't possibly hope to lecture me on decision making over my own child. You don't know what it's like to lose the-"
"I was there!" I explode suddenly, gesturing madly and wildly with my hands, spreading them about my vicinity in arcs as I cry out the confession, the one I didn't tell her, "Starkiller Base was exactly where Han Solo lost his life, by a saber through the gut, Kylo Ren's saber. Han's last desire in this world was to see his son, and all he got was the touch of a monster, lifeless. His body was shamelessly cast aside like his life meant nothing to his own son. Tell me, Organa, would you still have the unyielding faith you do in that monster had you witnessed it yourself? I think not, his treachery knows no bounds, he will never stop, the Benjamin Solo you once knew and loved no longer exists the way you wished,"
White hot agonizing pain rushed through my fingertips, penetrating all nerves my body had to offer like a saber wound. And I left her there, in pain, suffering, crying and gaping in disbelief, in sadness. I may have ruined whatever good she had left. The decision involving the fate of Kylo Ren, her only son turned dark, was the difference between allowing the good people to rest easy with his demise, or for Organa to live selfishly with my help.
His only hope, he abandoned years before anyone had any wishes for his return. The Light had not left him, it clung around the edges of a few corners of his mind, the most precious memories, sacred thoughts were protected, it was what saved his absolute control from Snoke, what spared my own life on Starkiller. The Jedi way in which he was taught still sticks to every decision, but his refusal to harness and acknowledge it may lead to his eventual death, by my hand.
Should he choose to so open up, to let me in, a patron, the Last of the Jedi, he would be given more time than he has. He could reconvert. The good of the universe, or the good of his mother, the only family he has left? For his mother, he will refuse, for myself as well, he has no real connection with me. The good of the rest of the universe would be his swift end.
Perhaps his redemption, falls into the grey, or the extraction of his connection all together, and while not absolute, enough. But what good could come from his isolated form now, and his rash behavior if I remove the only power he has left?
My feel halt in their path, a metal wall before me, a soft bleeping panel beside it, a hand signature required to gain entrance. I was the only one with authorization to this door, but why wander to this door of all that reside on this ship? Foolishly, upon impulse, a demand rose within my mind and to silence it, the door opened. Storming in quietly, eyes adjusting to the darkness, the reflective metal about the room, the temperature had dropped significantly. His breath came in steady waves, slow, deep, drawn out. Head hanging low, body slacked, he was sleeping. At long last his mind gave way to rest.
I would stay here, anticipating his rousing, reaching out through the Force, praying for his cooperation.
There was no denying it any longer.
How vivid and real she looked, standing there in the snow. Crust of an imploding planet falling away at our feet, the hot magma, inner core of the dying killer, spraying up in the air, orange and fire red glow painting her already tanned skin. Her bare feet dirtied and covered in melted ice, ground shaking beneath her. Body still, unmoving even in the face of danger. Her face remaining loyal to her discretion,deliciously so, blank, devoid of her own emotions, even her eyes refused to betray her thoughts.
Even as a child, she remained as such, patient, curious, unafraid. Her mind forever impregnated by innocence and the Light, a deep sense of peace I could not fathom. Always unintimidated by the violent clashes of the Force that swirled like the dance of Life and Death about her.
Blink once, and she stood, yet again, still rooted as the earth behind her crumbled and fell away into the hissing, exposed pools of the Starkillers core. Yet still, she stood there now, hair no longer up in her buns, but a long braid down her back, the body of the child she once was, so many years ago.
In her hand was her old training baton. The dark wood and metal glaring out against her pale white clothes, her head cocking to the side, mimicking the movements of her old master. She broke into a smile, eyes landing on me, her sharp jaw crooking and her left side of her lips curling less than her right. Genuine, it was her tell.
The blizzard planet, Starkiller, imploded a meter behind her, a shattering rumble and vicious hiss and pop of the plasma infested molten core spurting into the air, her face becoming shadowed, expression one of fruitless horror. She was unafraid of the mess behind her.
I dared a step, fearing her fall as the ground gave way closer to her feet, the flames landing about her, the over active surface melting the snow and ice. Hand outstretched, fingers twitching, my padawan was waiting. A giggle escaped her lips, light, captivating, and she spun. Body too nimble, too light, just so that he could not keep up with her. She took to a sprint, footfalls slushing through the melted snow, away from and through the carnage of the planet beneath her. Dashing and weaving through trees, her wavy hair came undone, swishing through the air with each forceful push of her legs.
Rushed, I chased after her, dread welling up, pushing on my throat, fearful that again, I would not see her again. Embers filtered through the forest, raining down from the sky, her laughter drawing me in yet again, panic welling up as her tiny figure began to gain distance from me. She was faster than I, more dynamic. I lagged, the pressure in my chest holding me back.
Then suddenly I lost her, my feet halted in the middle of the forest, her small form had vanished from my chasing path of destruction, the moonlight shifting through the rising plumes of ashes and smoke, baptizing my form and the snow around me in white. The ashes themselves searing and burning chunks of rock, metal, trees into my clothes, eating holes in my skin.
Breathless I spun, searching madly for any indication of her, I refused to lose her again. Never again.
Her giggle ripped through me, shattering my reality, silencing everything else. Her name was on the tip of my tongue, as I saw her blurred movements, then she was hanging from a tree limb, much like she used to, eyes bright. My apprentice giggled, pulling herself up with a huff, demanding I fulfill a request I would struggle to do the rest of my life, "Come and catch me!"
I did, my mind screams out, darkness taking over the place of the moon, the forest catching fire, reminding me of a dark night I wished to forget. The ice and slush ground growing tainted, dirty, foul, and soft, and it ate me whole. Body convulsing on the ground, shivering violently as the vision invaded my mind.
The old Jedi temple, spires piercing the stormy air, rain had already hailed from above, the anxiousness of the dark figures beside me leaked into my skin. The bitter cold of their cruelty was something foreign to me, the darkness that shrouded them like tidal waves of mass destruction pulled me apart, hollowed me. I knew why we were here, I organized it, this gathering, this coup. Still, the ethereal form of the Supreme Leader Snoke was unnerving, sickening, afflicting.
He approached me, looking up at my awkward form, I was too tall, "Here it is, the coronation of your name," Snoke cooed, a menacing tone, gravely, my body recoiled from it, unused to the darkness of it. Aware his presence invaded my mind while he spoke, my blocks doing nothing to him, "Prove to me you are strong enough to harness the power I can offer, earn the name Kylo Ren, and be rid of the weak pathetic shell you were,"
My hands clutched the helmet in front of me, fingers digging against the face plate, resisting the urge to squirm as his breath fluttered hot and deathly against my face, "You are ripe for the picking boy, let the Dark side rapture you, let it free you from the petty constraints of the Jedi... Feel it flow through you," And so I did, the pressing in my mind growing heavier, my vision began to blur, as he purred my new name.
The screaming came next, the vicious slash of my blade, my old blue saber cutting a brilliant arc up into the air, the crimson painting my Jedi robes, splattering onto my mask. A strange feeling of pride washed my senses, cleansed me. Bodies littered the floor around me, soaking me, the tiles and the walls in their life. I did this, and in the midst of chaos, another young pupil, who couldn't have been any older than I was, lunged at me, with a fallen comrades saber.
Anger consumed me, and raw energy flew through the air, shoving the padawan back to the pillar nearest us. How dare he think himself enough to test me in battle? Hands clenching I watched as they struggled for air, clawing, struggling to use their force abilities as well. And when he could no longer see, when his heart gave out, and his brain lost its oxygen, a thought breached my senses, They deserved all of this.
Clothes sticking to me, I sought out any new challenger, determined to let this anger consume me. To wash away any guilt I may acquire, it felt good, the raw burning that coursed through my veins, giving me a high I never experienced in any Jedi training exercise. My footfalls grew heavy as my conscience attempted to review my actions, I had no mercy for those who assumed I had it better, who berated me for my awkwardness. They all deserved it.
Something stopped me, in the middle of the hallway, though it could have been the slumped against the wall body of another dark one, and ignoring the soaked through, the tainted cling of my sticky robes, I stepped into the room.
Touched by the chaos that wrecked this temple, the faint smell of burning, of the tangy substance that rushed through veins splattered the walls. I was aware they set this wing of the temple on fire, but it was the intent. The sight before me, didn't shock me, as I bathed in it moments before, no, it was the shaking but frozen form of my padawan, frightened. Lightning flashed outside, startling her gaze to me.
I nearly dropped my saber when her mind snapped to me, crying out in fear, there were bodies, ones that she fought off before another student urged her to hide. Rain poured, billowed, ransacked the temple, the sky stuck in a remorseful chant for the preservation of the light side. I knew instantly, I should kill her.
I took a step towards her, and she simply stared, undaunted by my blood soaked and masked form, perhaps she could read my force signature. If she was that strong in her tiny body, then Snoke would harbor her, and train her. I wouldn't allow that, she was my padawan.
It was only within arms reach of me did she made a movement, a soft whimper of a noise from her throat, and my hands fumbled to remove my mask. It slid to the floor with a quiet thud, and I fell with it, down to my knees as she allowed her emotions to invade her face. Tears sprung up to her eyes, and her breath caught in her throat, a heavy wheeze and strained gasp as she garbled out something as she ran to me. Uncaring of my soaked in blood clothing, she threw her tiny arms around me, finding my hair, gripping my shoulders.
My own arm weaved around her, pulling her close feeling her shudder as she cried into my shoulder. She was scared, and I did as usual, and massaged the back of her tangled bed head before squeezing her thin shoulder, and gaining her attention. My gloved hand was covered in blood, but I wasn't concerned too much about it, still I removed it before wiping away the heavy tears on her cheeks.
From clutching me, her clothes and hands stunned red, yet she was unaware of it in the darkness of the room. I heard shouting from the others, and my hand dug so hard into her arms my fingertips rubbed bone, she was unafraid still, of me. If only she knew. Chastely my lips pressed to her head and I took her hand, sliding my mask back on. Snoke would only kill her, with my affections towards my chosen padawan, she would be a weakness.
In the hallway, I got a better look at the body against the wall, killed upon impact, a snapped neck. A Kamino planet dweller, pale face blank and eyes empty, a thought pegged me, did my padawan do this?
She tugged on my hand, in our rush through the halls, away from the voices, away from the dark presence that flooded the halls like a tsunami. "Where are we going Master Ben?" She asked me, looking up once I pulled her to a wall, she was smiling, she thought this was fun. My heart raced in my chest, I committed treason, two faced was now my affiliation with the Jedi and the Sith. Snoke will never know. I whispered to her, disliking her expression to my altered tone, "We're playing a game, hide and seek, it's our turn to hide,"
"Where are we going to hide?" She asked excitedly, my hand came up, finger pressing to her lips,
"Quiet my Palawan, can't reveal the secret too early now," She bit her lip, widening her eyes to apologize and nodded eagerly. Pain gripped my chest when I realized, I could never see her again, in order to preserve her life.
The rain beat us down, dampening my clothes once again and splintering into her very bones. She shivered viciously and clutched at herself, swiftly I took her by the arms and lifted her to my chest, earning a shocked giggle as I held her to my back, gripping her knees. Her fingers sunk into my helmet, her ankles swaying with each of my long strides, the lightning splitting the sky in the distance and the rumble shaking us here. The faint glow of the fire on the temple spire.
She laughed with glee as her eyes took in my ship, it was nothing special really, but unless she was 10 Luke didn't permit students to pilot any vessels. Her profound giggles easing my inner turmoil, and calmed me as her big hazel eyes took in the controls, fingering the switches and the co-pilot controls. Suddenly she jumped into the co seat and beamed at me, squirming in place, "We're in a ship Ben!" She thought to inform me,
"Buckle yourself in, and we can take off," Her eyes widened even more if possible, lips falling open as her hands fumbled for the protective belt.
"We're really gonna fly?" I nodded, starting up the engines and pushing away the heavy dread in my chest, then we took off, away from her home, away from the temple, leaving anyone else to die.
Shifting out of hyperspace, it happened on accident, a happy one, however. An ugly ship yard of fugitives and thieves, it would be the perfect place for her. A planet of sand, she'd never seen so much before. It was once owned by the Republic, now it was considered one of the less desirable outposts, there were more people disappearing on the planet than leaving it, Snoke would never find her here.
I urged her to change her attire and I quickly changed my own, covering our faces with scarves and visors, the sun just setting, I guided us into the atmosphere, setting down on some trading set. Her small hand found mine, and I held hers to steady myself. She kept smiling, ignoring the curious glances of early rising scavengers, ignoring how heavily she struggled with the sand sucking and sinking at her feet.
We took shelter from the sweltering sun, the light nearly blinding us. An ugly creature, fat and discolored looking. He eyed me, with his beady black orbs, and lifted a muscle at the girl beside me, "What?"
"I need you to keep her here, under the radar," I state, voice distortion making him uncomfortable in the slightest bit,
"Not interested," He huffed and turned away from us in his chair,
"I'll pay you," His interest peaked, and my padawan tightened her clutch on my hand. Willing myself not to look at her, I added quickly, "30 Nova Crystals,"
"How long?" He asked suspiciously,
"Years," I demanded, he snorted in contempt at me. My padawan pulled at my hand, shaking it gently, I could feel her eyes on me, but if I looked at her, I would not go through with this. Then both our lives would be at risk.
"No,"
"30 can get you rations out the ass creature, can even get you a ship off this planet, you will protect her with that, now do we have a deal?"
"Master," Her voice softly cut in, afraid of my reaction to the interruption.
"Fine," It hissed, "Get out of here," Wordlessly, I brushed his mind, my invasion unnoticeable by his ungifted embodiment, and saw all that he was, and will be, his name, future, past, and every dirty secret he had. In the end, his scoundrel levels weren't nearly enough to concern me, not compared to what I had done. Swiftly, I slapped down the pouch of the stones and stared at him through the mask. Watching as he begrudgingly slid the bag to him. "Pleasure doing business with you,"
"The feeling is mutual, Unkar Plutt," I hissed, gaining his surprise as I pulled my apprentice away from the prying eyes of others. In the shade of a deteriorating tent, I pulled my mask off with a hiss, huffing as the heat brushed my face for the first time. Staring at myself in the visor reflection, I wondered, if I could really do this. A little peep made my gaze befall her, cheeks already red, hands struggling to remove the visor I gave to her. Slowly, I got to my knees before her, assisting her silently, wondering what exactly to say.
Then her small hands found my jaw, and made me look at her. Still, she was brave, unafraid of the horror I caused, of the loneliness I have cast upon her even now, and yet, she still trusted me. She tilted her head to the side, "Master Ben, what are we doing here?"
"You're going to stay here for a while, Rey,"
"What about you?" She chimed, eyes big and watery already. Force I couldn't do this.
"I have to go away for a while,"
"Why?"
"To keep you safe,"
"But I wanna be with you Master Ben," She pleaded, grabbing my wrists, fingernails clawing at the hands that cupped her small puffy cheeks. I couldn't leave her here, could I? Her breath quickened and tears fell as I continued, "I need you to wait here for me, Rey, and survive. Forget the Jedi temple. Forget it all, but I will come back for you,"
"Ben," She whispered, betrayed suddenly, eyes welling up with waterfalls of tears, and how I could sit there for hours, consoling her shaking form. Instead, I pulled her close to me, and threaded my fingers into her hair, embracing her, "Rey, lock your abilities away, don't ever use them again," She nodded weakly against my shoulder, hands clutching the clothing off my back. My lips found her hairline, and I pulled away from her, steading her, noticing her reluctance to look at me.
The air vibrated, static eating at my bones, the sand shifting beneath my feet. Then I was walking back to the ship, blocking out her screams as the suns heat intensified, "Ben! Ben come back! Please!... Master Ben!" The axis shifting, everything fell away into black at my feet, my body twisting to see her, struggling against Unkar Plutts hold, "Don't leave me here alone!" and then she was gone, eaten by the darkness in my mind, and soon, I was gone too.
And then there was pain.
Screaming surfaced, fussing, chains and pain, oh Gods the insufferable pain!
Her voice, or something, calling my old name. It echoed, reverberated through the air, pierced my skin, blurry, distorted and messy, before it cleared. A broken and fearful chant, a woman voice, deeper than the girl I chased. And then her face was there, stunning, her hands cupping my face, willing me awake. Her breath fluttering, choppy on my lips and chin, she was afraid.
But my only thoughts were on her.
My Rey.