Ben Solo

Ben woke early, as soon as the first rays of light brought the first call of those cacophonous leaf-feathered creatures. He tried to sit up, expecting the same sharp, slicing agony that had accompanied every previous attempt, and was surprised when he was met only with a dull ache. This pleased him. Satisfied him. It meant his body was still strong and responsive to healing, despite recent attempts to weaken him.

So he did sit up, moving his legs over the side of his bed. His gaze traveled across to the other bed, where the lithe form of Rey was sprawled across her soft bedding. She'd pulled her hair loose before climbing in bed, and now it fell every which way, some strands brushing her cheeks while the rest fanned out behind her in wild array.

Asleep like that, she looked a lot less powerful. Less dangerous. Less headstrong. A lot more vulnerable.

He clenched the linens on the bed beneath him, reminding himself that this was real. For so many months now he'd tried in vain to excise Rey from his every thought, convinced of her rejection. Yet now she was here. A few feet away. Beautiful in her sleepy serenity. She had come in his loneliest hour. She had come back for him.

He grappled with surging, conflicting emotions every moment spent in her presence. On the one hand, she had rejected him in his most vulnerable, tender moment — a pain he couldn't endure as well as his current physical wounds. She had disappointed him, stubbornly clinging to the past, to the light, to tired old notions of Jedis and families. He'd tried to help her let go of them, to finally be free of the chains that bound her as she had helped him be free of his. He tried to show her that though the universe might look at her and see merely a scavenger, he saw someone infinitely more important. The most important person of all, in fact. He begged her! After swearing he'd never subject himself to anyone again, after a lifetime of begging for his busy parents attention and Luke's approbation, after years of clawing after Snoke's approval, he was finally free of needing anyone!

Except her. A shining light that grappled with darkness within, the mirror image to his dark wrestle with light. He did need her. He would have given anything, done anything to get her to stay. So he had begged. And she still walked away, cutting him down in the most important question he'd ever asked.

It was hard to forget that — but it was also hard to be angry. Not all the pain and rage in the world would compel him to stay angry at her. Their connection allowed him too-frequent glimpses into her heart. What he found there made him want to shelter her, to take care of her, to be with her. Amidst the vulnerability, he found strength and resilience, too, which fascinated him. And within her he found that indomitable spark of hope, which nothing seemed to extinguish. She cared for him, more genuinely and more deeply than anyone had in a long, long time. But she couldn't join him. Couldn't take his hand and all that went along with it.

Confusing creature.

Still, something bound them together that went far beyond Snoke's manipulative tactics.

And when he was certain he'd die alone on a foreign planet, she'd appeared. The things he'd tried to use to hate her all this time melted away until he couldn't even remember what they were.

She stirred, rubbing her eyes. He watched her sit up, glance in his direction, and double-take at his position at the edge of his bed.

"Ben!"

He gave a short, single nod. "I believe my recovery is progressing."

"That's an understatement!" She was at his side in an instant, fingers gently probing his bare skin near the bandages. Her touch left spots of warmth and pleasure radiating through him. She seemed to have no hesitation being so close anymore, and it made his pulse quicken. He swallowed hard, watching her investigate his wounds, observing the messy flow of her hair.

Rey peeled back one of the bandages and examined underneath it. Her eyes flicked up to his, a grin breaking across her face.

"It looks a lot better than yesterday."

"Good."

The little round droid came rolling in, beeping happily at the sight of Rey. She left Ben to go kneel down next to it. Ben wondered why, since the droid's optical sensor could properly scan her at any height. Nevertheless, she knelt to it's level and gave it a surprisingly gentle smile.

"Good morning, BB-8."

The droid issued a series of beeps and chirps. Ben had never had much patience or interest in droids and never bothered to learn the mechanical signals they used to communicate. Rey's ability to understand it seemed like a superfluous skill, like bending down to talk to it.

Nevertheless, she found the comprehension useful now, apparently. Her brows lowered and concern twitched at the corner of her mouth.

"You didn't tell them, did you?"

Another beep.

She relaxed a little. "Good. No, don't give them any information except that you and I are both safe and in good health. I don't care how insistent they are."

A quick succession of beeps this time.

"Yes," Rey smiled. "You can tell her that next time."

For a brief moment, isolation swept over Ben like a wave. She had people who were concerned about her wellbeing, people who wanted to hear from her. If she were ambushed and dying, she'd have a whole army of loving companions around to help her survive it. No - he cut the feeling off immediately, hardening himself against any such future moment of weakness. The more people she cared about, the more vulnerable and divided she was. She just didn't know it yet.

He glanced back at her. She patted BB-8's little round head and stood up again, pulling her hair halfway up, the way she'd been wearing it since Ahch-To.

"Your friends are worried about you." Ben remarked.

"Yes."

"Do they know why you left?"

"Yes."

He couldn't help it, his brow lifted in surprise. "And they let you leave?"

"No one had to let me. I decided. They tried their best to persuade me, but they were unsuccessful."

For a moment he saw a flash of faces, one dark of skin, the other dark of hair, both pleading with her. The pilot and the traitor. Yes, they would be the most vocal against a mission such as this.

"Your friends thought you should let me die."

She met his gaze and he found no shame or apology there, only a hint of sadness. "They did. And with good reason. You've tried to kill them every chance you've had."

"Yes." In fact, he should have killed the pilot when he had extracted the information he needed. That damn pilot had started all of this.

Her eyes flashed with sudden coldness, and he realized she must have felt that thought leak from him. He'd have to be more careful. Whatever this connection was, it had the troubling side-effect of thinning the veil of privacy between their minds.

"Maybe he was right," Ben said after a moment of stoney silence from both of them.

"Who?"

"Your pilot." Again their gazes met and he saw that he wasn't necessarily wrong in his assumption. She liked the pilot, at least a little. They were close. But where did the traitor fit in to all this? He remembered the intense connection the two of them had shared in the frosty forest of Starkiller Base. The ex-trooper had even abandoned the fight momentarily when he thought Rey was gravely hurt.

Ben decided to brush this all off as a side-effect of Rey's propensity to love everything. "Maybe they were both right and you should have let me die."

She said nothing, but waited for him to continue.

He didn't know why he was telling her this. It was something that had been lurking in his mind for a long time, but not something he'd ever vocalized. "Perhaps the galaxy needs the Skywalker line to end."

Something…something flashed in her countenance. A memory? He couldn't quite see it.

"Perhaps," she agreed slowly. "But that's easily solved. Don't produce any heirs. Then my mistake in saving you will be corrected."

She was grinning by the end. Teasing him, he guessed. It was an unusual experience. Nobody teased him. Not since he was a small child. As an adult, they may have taunted, perhaps, and jeered, but that was born from malice and cruelty and this felt different. Something about her voice was almost playful. He looked down, confused.

The bustle of approaching footsteps distracted them, and they both turned to look. The two physicians, and the two Rey had spoken with yesterday had all returned at one time.

The female came bearing fragrant, mouth-watering food again. Ben glanced at Rey to see if she had noticed. She had, and tracked the platter with her eyes as Pru set it on the table.

The physicians came immediately to Ben, and he stifled the urge to brush them away. He felt fine. He didn't need or want them. Their proximity made him uncomfortable, made him annoyed. Still, after a tense moment, he moved back into a reclined position on the bed and allowed them to examine his wounds more thoroughly than Rey had done.

"Did you have a restful night?" The other male asked them.

Rey answered for them both. "Yes, we did. Thanks to your hospitality. And Ben seems to be doing better this morning."

"I am pleased to hear it."

The two of them joined the physicians at Ben's bedside. He searched for Rey's glance and found it. It became a little easier to endure the poking and prodding of the irritating doctors.

Finally they stepped back and said a few short words to Veze. He relayed them in turn to Rey.

"The healing is remarkable. The physicians are mightily encouraged. It is suggested that he begin walking about, as soon as he feels comfortable."

He'd get up and walk right now, if it meant he could get away from them. Ben imagined it glibly. Why did she like these creatures? Their soft-spoken, calm and deliberate way of talking made him feel impatient. They reminded him of the nanny droids that surrounded him throughout his childhood.

Rey liked the idea too. She nodded quickly. "Alright, we'll do that."

"They would like to know if you are in pain?" Veze asked Ben, speaking to him directly now.

Ben didn't blink. "No."

"That is good." He translated the information for the doctors. Then, to Rey, he added. "Pru has brought you some food again, as we understand your species eats several times a day. If you feel so inclined, the village is at your disposal. You may explore at your leisure. Nothing will be forbidden you."

"Thank you," Rey said again, for what Ben felt like was the millionth time.

Veze and the physicians left. Pru lingered a moment longer.

"Was your meal to your satisfaction last night?"

Rey grinned. "More than satisfactory. It was wonderful."

This seemed to please the purple-furred female. "If you need more, please fine me."

"We will."

Ben, watching Pru with a skeptical, cynical feeling brooding inside him, saw Rey glance his direction out of the corner of her eye.

"Pru…" she hesitated.

The female turned back to them.

Rey ventured her hesitant question. "How did you all know that I meant you no harm? When I arrived in the village, I mean. You all were so quick to help me. How did you know I wasn't hostile?"

Pru shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."

"How did you know I wasn't here for violent purposes?"

Apparently, this hadn't occurred to Pru before. Her deer-like visage betrayed puzzlement. "What purpose would you have for violence against us?"

"If I were a bad person, I might be motivated by greed to take everything you had."

"We offer it freely."

"Right…but an evil person might not care."

"We could not stand in the way of someone determined to do evil. But we have never met an individual like the one you speak of. True evil is rare, they say."

Rey frowned a little, and Ben could feel her heart quicken with worry. "Darkness isn't as rare in the galaxy as you would think."

"Oh, darkness is not evil." Pru picked up a fruit off the tray, something they'd both eaten and enjoyed the night before. She turned it in her hands. "Corrupted darkness produces evil acts, but corrupted light can also do that. After the dark comes the light, and after the day comes the night. They are inseparable companions. In the natural cycle, each has its turn, and frequently they merge as one. Darkness is justice, light is mercy. Both are required for balance. Eventually, it all resolves into gray anyway."

Rey and Ben watched her, silence following her brief pause.

She traced her fingers along the swirling red-and-white patterns of the fruit. "Dark becomes evil and devouring when not balanced by an inner light, and light becomes rigid and brittle when not balanced by an inner dark. Dark may not be rare, therefore, but we believe true evil is. Many who would seem it actually have light hiding in them somewhere, and many who would seem righteous and pious often have a demon lurking in their secret shadows."

Setting the fruit back on the tray, she glanced back at Rey. "Did I answer your question?"

"Um…" Rey had a strange look on her face. Finally, she gave one short nod. "Yes, thank you."

Pru smiled then, or as close to it as her species could produce. "You are not evil. We could feel it when you arrived. Neither of you. We are pleased to accommodate your needs."

Since Rey offered no reply, she turned and exited.

Ben felt a stirring with him — fascination and admiration. Rey had been listening to him after all, when he told her these creatures were naive fools. It turned out he was right, big surprise there, but her willingness to find out impressed him. She wasn't too stubborn to test a theory she didn't agree with. Perhaps there was hope for her after all.

Rey didn't move for several seconds after Pru's departure. Ben sat up again, gritting his teeth a little against the soreness caused by the physician's probing exam. Still, it wasn't as bad as it had been the day before.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and shifted his weight down onto them, upright for the first time in days.

Rey, emerging from her deep rumination, came immediately to his side and wrapped her hands around one of his arms, steadying him.

While helpful, this was also amusing. She was so small compared to him. If he should fall, would she really be able to catch him? Then again, he had first hand experience with her strength and knew she packed a surprising amount in her slight frame.

At first being upright made the world careen perilously in his peripheral vision, but soon enough he got his bearings.

Before he could attempt a step, Rey shifted, worming herself under his arm. One of her own wrapped around his waist while she held his other, grip firm, support steady. With her in place, she indicated that he should try now.

He did, but he really couldn't have said after the fact how many steps he took with her hooked under his arm like that. His awareness filled exclusively with the press of her body against his, the way her hair still inexplicably smelled like the incense-and-sand of Jakku, and how profound his pleasure was at having her close.

Somehow, he made it to the table where the food awaited them. She left his side then, and he slid automatically into a chair.

"Your progress is amazing, Ben," she said happily, sitting in a chair across from him. "Two days ago when I found you, I didn't know if you'd live through the night, let alone make a full recovery. But you're doing remarkably well."

He picked at his food, saying nothing. Why did her praise feel so good? Why did he enjoy knowing she was happy? It shouldn't matter - now that he had no master, he needed no one's approval and sought no one's praise. He was his own master. So why did he care that she was pleased with him?

But he did. He soaked up her approbation like it was water, and he a dying plant.

"I haven't forgotten the fallen tree," he said after a moment. "I'm ready to go back when you are."

Perhaps it was bad timing, because Rey looked from him to her overflowing plate and back to him like he'd sprouted a second head.

She finished chewing her bite and finally laughed.

"You aren't enjoying the stay here?"

He didn't like the interruptions. He wanted to preserve as much time he had with her alone as he could. Because the thing neither of them wanted to think about, in fact we're very careful to avoid thinking about, was what happened next. After he was fully recovered. What then?

"Have you give any more thought to my proposal?" He asked.

She hunched over her plate, transforming her body into a shield against his question.

"Rey," he pressed softly.

She glanced up briefly, as as usually happened between them, her gaze caught and lingered for a while. She searched his face, something troubled and yearning within her own.

"Ben, I can't. Please stop asking. It hurts too much."

He knew the pain she referred to. He felt it himself. Wanting so badly, but unable to submit.

"If you just..." He started.

She picked up her plate and moved away from him, went to sit on the floor by BB-8.

That was becoming the familiar response now, he knew. Rather than argue, she just left. It frustrated him. He wanted to talk her through these misgivings, persuade her that what he saw in their future could still happen. Persuade her that he didn't expect or even want her to change. He wanted to explain himself better.

And though he wouldn't admit it, even to himself, it stung every time she walked away.