This is a short, dark Reylo scene at the end of a battle and contains a major character death. I created an aesthetic to go with it; the link is on my profile page.
This is unbeta'd so please forgive any mistakes. I hope you enjoy!
Rey ran to the crumpled heap of black cloth across the battleground; her senses were flooded with the rancid smell of death, of bodies torn apart, accompanied by the ubiquitous sound of dying that filled the air.
She knew it was bad as she drew level with the shuddering form.
Sinking to her knees she laid a hand on what she thought was his shoulder.
"Ben?" she called in a tone that was both hopeful and fearful.
He did not move.
"Ben," she called again, more assertive but with growing worry.
With the prolonged lack of response Rey pulled him towards her, rolling him onto his back.
She could not stifle the sharp gasp that escaped her lips at the sight of him. She had seen him injured, seen him in pain but nothing like this.
His skin was so pale it carried a grey tinge to it, his eyes were sunken and dull with angry dark circles underneath, his lips once so red were now turning a blue-grey shade, and he shook uncontrollably.
He was dying.
"Ben," she choked out, her eyes straining to find his injury against the inky blackness of his clothes. The fabric had a shine to it from the draining blood gushing from a vicious abdominal wound.
There was nothing she could do. Not here, not now. There was nothing anyone could do.
She finally made eye contact with him and she wished she had not. He knew he was dying; his gaze held such pain and regret, for the past that could not be changed and for the future that was now lost.
Rey moved him, as gently as she could although a hiss of pain nonetheless escaped his lips, until she cradled him in her lap.
Not knowing what else to do she half sung a song, a lament, that she had heard the older slaves sing on Jakku.
Rest now, my lonely soldier,
Your war is done and fought,
You have endured so much in this onslaught.
Sleep now, my weary soldier,
Your fight is at an end,
You have nothing left to defend.
Lay down, my brave soldier,
Your conflict is at its close,
You can let go of all your woes.
Still your mind, my beautiful soldier,
Your struggle has come to its conclusion,
Your fear will fade away like an unearthed illusion.
Your time has come, my darling soldier,
But wait for me, my dearest one,
And we will walk the night as one.
He reached out a hand and cupped her face. With no strength to speak he strove to convey all he felt in that gesture. As he let his thumb skim her bottom lip Rey lifted a hand to cover his, tears now freely flowing down her cheeks.
His breathing slowed and quietened and Rey continued to stoke his hair.
Rey did not know how long they stayed like that before he gave loud and deep shuddering, rasping breath and stilled. She watched as his eyes grew dull and glassy and the life drained from his body.
Rey pulled him closer to her, burying her face in his hair as the grief welled up and she sobbed, "Please don't leave me," over and over.
Ben Solo-Organa had died. The last of the Skywalker line had died.
Rey stayed with him long after his passing, cradling him, not wanting to let him go.
Ben had died.
Rey realised too late that it was not just Ben who died but it was her Ben who was gone.
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Fin