AN: I've gone back and started editing chapters in an attempt to make them flow better and more comprehensive. It will be a slow process, and I'm sure not everybody will feel like rereading what I've already published, but I would still appreciate reviews with constructive feedback! If something seems out of place or out of character, please let me know! I'm still learning about the Star Wars universe. The terminology and linguistics are a bit of a struggle right now, since I'm not always sure what the SW counter part to real world idioms and creatures are. While creative writing is mostly a therapuetic hobby for me, producing shoddy work just to put it out there is not my style. I love storytelling, and I know how well I can write when I am focused enough. My aim is to create quality work that reader's can truly enjoy, without getting lost in a confusing plot. So please, let me know if things too wordy or ambiguous, or if I'm making anything too busy, or not developing a character/concept enough. I welcome criticism!
TL/DR: This chapter is freshly edited, and I will be slowly editing published chapters to improve them. I hope to hear from readers on how they think I'm doing. Please, enjoy the story and leave a review!
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Star Wars. I do not get paid for my published work. This story is purely reacreational and non-canon, but contains canon-compliant elements leading up to the end of The Last Jedi. As such, TLJ spoilers apply. Proceed at your own risk.
Chapter I: A Shockwave Unraveling Threads in Its Wake
He paced frantically about, his wild eyes darting around the room, as if he expected something - anything - to suddenly appear in front of him. It was maddening, but he felt if he stopped, his body would shut down, leaving him trapped in a mental prison he could never escape. The only way he could hold on to a small semblance of control over himself, to prevent snapping and becoming a complete madman, was to keep moving. Keep moving and hold on to the only emotion he could bear to feel right now. Rage.
As he allowed his fury to boil over, he spun around and punched his fist into the wall. It shuddered under the impact, the aftershock sending bits of plastered ash falling to the floor. Small cracks began to form around his imprint like lava channels. When that didn't satisfy him, he lividly grabbed the nearest object he could find off a side table and catapulted it across the chamber, a guttural growl escaping his lips as it shattered against the far wall. Ceramic shards flew everywhere. He hated that vase with an all-consuming passion in that moment, though the logic as to why currently escaped him. But projecting his emotions on inanimate objects was a waste of time. He needed to kill. That was the only thing that would satiate his tormented soul, he was certain of it.
But there wasn't a soul within reach to be sacrificed. So, with a murderous snarl, he activated his light saber and slashed through the furniture of his living quarters, screaming at the top of his lungs, thrashing wildly about, until the room began to spin away from him in a dizzying flurry and he finally ran out of breath. He deactivated the saber and let it drop to the floor before collapsing against the wall behind him, allowing himself to slump down into a crumpled mass of jaded defeat. He could no longer hold back the thoughts and emotions that threatened to tear him apart. The floodgate in the back of him mind burst open, and he stared blankly into a pit of nothingness as it all came rushing through.
She had cut him off. It had only been a few days since the events on Crait, where their link was permanently detached, cauterized, like a light saber searing into the very flesh of the force. He didn't know what to do. Coming untethered had left him stranded on a failing ship, drifting aimlessly into space. The day she'd come to him, he bared his soul to her. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. He'd let his guard down as much as he dared, allowing a show of intimacy he would have never permitted with anyone. EVER. He had been so sure of what the future held for them; the bond was so strong between them.
But like everything else in his life, that too was ripped away from him. Everything had been reduced to ruins, crashing down faster than a TIE fighter in the hands of an incompent Resistance pilot. It was a spectacular display of fire and embers, raining down in a crumbling throne room. It was a macabre presentation of dead bodies on the floor, and the final act was a light saber explosion. She really knew how to leave a lasting impression. A magnificent disaster, indeed. The only way he knew how to cope was to recede further into the darkness; into the black shadows of his mind.
But that girl. That stupid, infuriatingly inexperienced, beautiful woman. She was his downfall, and he couldn't be rid of her even with the connection destroyed. He didn't want to admit that he had been humiliated by her rejection, and that made him even more irate. How could he possibly care for her, while simultaneously loathing her this much? His indignation deepened as he tried to rectify the immense conflict that jeopardized his emotional wellness. He was an unstable reactor, ready to go off with the mere push of a button. He needed her, with every fiber of his being. And she was going to kill him.
He couldn't let that happen. Everything he had worked for, the power he'd fought so hard to gain; he refused to let it be all for nothing. He wouldn't let her strip him of more than she already had. He wasn't going down without a fight, and neither was she. He had no choice. He needed to destroy her before she could destroy him. It was the only way to stop his untimely demise. This was a matter of life and death. Fight or flight. This was war. And he would annihilate any and all obstacles in his path to be rid of this threat. Forget strategic planning and biding time to rebuild his defenses. Logic and reason be damned. It was time to let the First Order die. The Sith. The Jedi. The Resistance. All of it. For his own sanity, he needed to find her. He was going to end this, once and for all. He was going to end HER. Whatever it takes.
She hated him. Despised everything he stood for. Loathed his existence. The bond they had shared, the force she thought was pulling them together, had ultimately proved to be a cruel mirage. A beguilement in the wake of betrayal. How could he so arrogantly assume that she would – no – that she COULD ever stand by his side, to take up his depraved cause as her own? Could he not see how blinded he was by bloodlust? That this deception he allowed to rule his mind would bring nothing but destruction? To think he could have power AND her, that he could still be a dark prince and have her heart, was blasphemy. The idea that she could ever darken herself to be with him made her sick. Her heart was broken beyond repair.
This is not going to go the way you think. Luke's words lingered in her mind. He had been right. She allowed her emotions to get the best of her; her feelings for Ben had gotten in the way. Had she really expected a different outcome? He was too far gone. Kylo Ren had killed him long ago. It was a fool's errand, and absurdly naïve of her to think she could resurrect a dead man from the grave. They were both obstinate. She could admit that. Both were determined to pull each other from one side to the other. They were attempting to best each other in a battle of wills, but it always ended in a stalemate. The dark and the light. There was no middle ground; there could be no compromise. Only complete surrender, one way or another. Anything less was a rejection sure to breed resentment. It already had.
She cursed his name, the one he'd bestowed upon himself. He considered himself a knight, but it was such an ostentatious title in her eyes. It carried no merit. It didn't make him greater, or award him a new identity of who he wanted to be. It was just another mask to hide behind. A license to do evil without guilt or consequence. It was a stark reminder of his cataclysmic servitude to the darkness, and nothing else.
She saw past the facades and illusions though. She could see who he was, who he really was behind his mask. A child in a man's body, cowardly and petulant, prone to tantrums and using manipulation to get his way. But he was also frightened. And alone. She understood that all too well. She caught glimpses of a more vulnerable side of him, of Ben. And that's who she wanted to fight for. That's who she held out hope for. But after it was all said and done, he had wounded her spirit deeply. He knew what he was doing and how it would hurt her. He did it anyway. Even an ill-behaved child knows better. They can still see the marked boundaries. They may push and poke, testing the limits. But at the end of the day, they recognize there are lines you should never cross. They know better. He knew better too. Or at least, he should have.
She remembered his words in the Supreme Leader's throne room, after they'd fought side by side, defeating their enemies together. She thought he had come to his senses. Her heart skipped when he offered her a place by his side. But his proposition was laced with a pretense that instantly hit her stomach like poison. She felt as if the force was being drained from her all together. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and no amount of sugar could disguise the acridity. He practically offered the universe to her, but he only craved to rule; to create a new order and use her power to strengthen him. He was so shrouded by the blackness in his soul, he couldn't see her, truly see her, through it all.
She begged him not to go that way. She inwardly willed him to come back to the light. Instead, he lashed out at her. He wanted her to let go of the past. He baited her with the knowledge that her parents had abandoned her, discarding her like refuse for their own selfish gains. He told her she had no place in this story. She had come from nothing. She was nothing. Her cheeks burned as the tears tracked stinging trails down her face. But not to me. He'd said it with such conviction, and it tore her apart. Because, even then, his efforts to show any form of caring were back-handed and biting. Didn't he feel it? Couldn't he see how he'd undone her heart strings? He had taken hold of her emotions, weaving his tangled web so intricately, that she blindly walked into his trap. She hadn't guarded herself enough. She was too innocent and trusting. Her hope became a snare she'd set for herself, and he took full advantage. She could never forgive herself for that. She could never forgive him for that.
Everything after that moment, when he'd held out his hand to her, beseeching her to join him, blurred together into a vortex of distant recollections. Reaching out. The force taking over her senses. The light saber breaking in half. Her escape back to what was left of the Resistance. Helping them flee from his wrath, once she found them. Her instinctive reactions had solidified her status with him as an eternal nemesis. She was all too painfully aware of that when she felt the connection form between them one last time. The deed was done, choices had been made, and the aftermath that followed was devastating.
She had fervently prayed that this had all been a nightmare. If she could somehow jolt herself awake, she'd come back to reality. But this WAS reality, and the sight of him now crushed her. She couldn't bear it. He'd only seen her for a fleeting moment before she closed the door. In that fraction of time, she saw his eyes. And she knew. She knew he truly hated her. And she hated him. She had to. It was the only thing she could cling to right now. Because if she didn't, she was sure she would simply wither up and be blown away by the wind. But somewhere, in the depths of her subconscious, behind a sealed door that she wasn't brave enough to open; that's where the truth lied. The gut-wrenching truth she couldn't deny in her soul. She loved him. The boy trying to escape the hell within himself. Ben Solo. She loved him. And she would have died a thousand times to bring him back from the underworld if she could. But Kylo Ren had purged any lingering trace of him that day on Crait. And she hated him for it. She hated that monster. That creature. Creature in a mask.