Kylo looked at her in shock as she draped one arm across the bench and leaned against it, carefully gauging his reaction. Cautiously he reached out, fingers passing through where the wards once were, running up and down, testing to see if she had truly taken them down.
"Why?" he demanded.
"You didn't kill me when you had the chance," she replied. "The wards around the tent are still up, you can't leave the area, but I trust you enough in here."
"How do you know you aren't making a very grave mistake?" he asked.
"I don't," she replied. "But I'm going to do what few have done recently, and that's put my trust in you. If the wards being up were the only reason you didn't kill me before, they're still up out there, and that'll still be the reason. But I think you and I have experienced something, and I'm not sure what or why."
He stepped across the line where the wards once were the way one might step onto a former minefield, wary that something might go wrong and cause a lot of pain. When he had fully crossed the line he shot a look back at Hermione, trying to see any indication that she was hiding something from him, but she was sitting with her eyes closed, the heel of one hand pressed to the wound on her forehead. Without looking away from her he raised his hand, and the first aid kit flew into his palm. He knelt next to her coaxing her hand away from her head and placing it on the bag. Slowly she opened the bag and placed her hand inside.
"Accio," she murmured, and a phial of potion flew into her hand. Cautiously he took it from her, and almost instinctively he placed a few drops on her wound. He watched in fascination as it healed before his eyes, and the moment he could see no trace he gently ran his thumb over it, and an image swam in front of him, of Hermione, eyes alight as she laughed at something. In that moment, he realized, she looked perfect, content and worry-free. Something stirred in his chest, a desire to see that version of Hermione, but knowing that it was next to impossible while they were confined to the wretched tent.
She was fighting the top of another phial, so he took it from her and opened it. She took a small sip of the contents, and immediately the pain that was written across her face started to diminish. A moment later she let off a sigh of relief and she pulled herself into a standing position.
"Thank you for your help," she smiled at him, replacing the contents of the first aid kit before putting it away. "I have no idea what time it is, but I'm sure you're hungry. What would you like?"
"Stay seated," he commanded. He went to the boxes that housed the tinned food Poe had left with her, and started rummaging through, occasionally picking something up to examine the label. After selecting three tins he started gathering things to cook with, working from memory of the times he had watched her in the kitchen. Not much after he placed a plate in front of her, some sort of meat and vegetable hash, and she decided to try it rather than ask.
"This is good," she said after the first couple bites.
"You sound surprised," he raised an eyebrow.
"Where I'm from the more senior levels of the army don't do the cooking. I guess it is just a little surprising to me to find one who actually knows his way around the kitchen."
"I did not join the First Order for the first part of my life, and my mother insisted I know a thing or two around the kitchen. She expected a different outcome, and thought I should at least be able to do the basics like cooking."
"That was rather wise of your mum," she nodded. "There are some people around me who probably couldn't cook soup from a can, as they've never had to cook a thing in their lives."
"Magic?"
"Spoiled, more like," she shrugged. "Some families have more money than common sense, at least, that is how my father used to put it. They didn't act like they could lose everything and have to fend for themselves."
"Cooking from those supplies isn't exactly difficult," he pointed out.
"No, I'd think it probably isn't. But there's still enough to know how not to burn things, and what things taste good together."
He was looking at her with a hint of a smirk.
"What?" she asked.
"I never met a person so impressed by someone's ability to put together the most basic meal."
"Oh, shut it," she smiled. "Maybe I'm impressed because I spent months with two boys who couldn't put cheese and bread together to make a sandwich without someone walking them through it. And Harry had no bloody excuse, his aunt and uncle were awful to him and made him do a lot of the cooking. He should have been able to help me, but I guess when you're surviving on what you can scrounge in the woods you're not cooking what you're used to."
"I'm assuming you had no experience with those ingredients, either, and yet you were expected to cook them," he pointed out.
"I don't know how I became the designated cook," she shrugged. "A lot of things around that time just sort of happened, especially since little things would quickly devolve into fights. I guess it was just another of the consequences of wearing a bit of an evil man's soul."
"Excuse me?" he raised an eyebrow.
"You saw that man, did you not?"
He nodded, immediately knowing she was talking about the man with the cold, reptilian eyes.
"He split his soul and encased pieces into objects to try to keep himself immortal. Because it's very difficult to destroy a soul we had to wear a piece that was kept in a locket before we found the means to destroy it, but being that close to it caused changes, and not for the better."
He stared at her for a long while. This girl, this unremarkable outsider of a girl had such fascinating stories of where she was from, made all the more impressive because her story didn't span a galaxy, the strife was condensed to a much smaller area. And yet that made it feel all the more constricting. When Luke faced difficulties he disappeared somewhere in the middle of the galaxy. When he was younger and needed some space he once stole the Falcon and took it halfway across the galaxy just to be alone with his thoughts for a bit. But this young girl didn't have the luxury. She couldn't escape, even when she was on the run, because that bit of evil had been hanging around her neck. And despite all that, despite dying for her cause, she still sat there speaking about it calmly, but he could tell there was a fire brimming just underneath ready to burn anyone who stood against her to the ground. And, he quickly realized, that if she knew the reality of what the First Order did, that fire would be directed at him. And, for the first time in a very long time, he felt a twinge of fear creep around him, though he wasn't sure if it was fear of the girl, or fear of disappointing her.
XXXXXX
Hermione finished eating in silence, though her mind was moving faster than it had in a while. What had shifted so quickly that she felt she was able to literally drop her guards around Kylo Ren? She remembered the fear she felt as he backed her into a corner, but that felt like a lifetime ago. What had changed? She could say it was knowing his background, but she had also known Voldemort's and found it just as tragic, if not moreso, and didn't feel safe around him or compassion for him. No, it was something else entirely, something she had never experienced before. There was a new connection there, but it was different than anything she had ever experienced before, almost as if it were a tangible thing that bound them together. She realized that she could feel him better than she ever had, and not just a troubled dark presence near her, but more the natural ebb and flow of his emotions. She knew that despite his kindness towards her, he was still wary that it was all a trap. She could feel a little hope in his chest as he laid her plate in front of her, feel his bemusement at her reaction, feel his curiosity at the details of her story.
And she could feel a twinge of fear as he looked at her.
That intrigued her the most. Kylo was much larger than her, she had seen him casually using the Force and remembered how he attempted to use it to hurt her when he first discovered their living situations, and despite their new connection he still had a presence about him that most would find fearsome. And yet he was the one who felt fear. What did he have to fear from her?
She cleaned both their plates without a word, then gathered a few things to go sit and read in the rapidly cooling evening air. She needed a few minutes outside the tent to collect her thoughts. But when she stepped outside the flap her book and lantern fell to the floor as she let off a cry of surprise.
"Hermione?" Kylo asked as he burst from the tent, immediately taking a defensive stance in front of her before he truly had a chance to assess the situation. But there were no enemies surrounding them, no weapons pointed in their direction. There was nothing.
Or, more accurately, there were thousands of dead things. The forest surrounding them seemed to have died suddenly, leaving husks of dead insects littered on the ground, trees that had once been green an vibrant now a dull brown, several toppled over as their brittle trunks gave way. The grass was also brown and crunched under every movement of their feet. Far off, up a hill, they could still see green things, but as far as Hermione could see there was nothing but death.
"Wait here," she commanded softly, drawing her wand.
"No," he insisted, grabbing her wrist.
"I'm not going very far," she protested, pulling herself away. "I'm not going to leave the wards. I want to check them. But just in case you should stay here. I'm much less recognizable than you."
He looked conflicted but nodded once. She spotted what used to be a small game path and started to follow it, winding lazily between trees, heading towards the soft sounds of a river rushing over rocks. The tent became more obscured behind her until finally it and Kylo were hidden from her view. She stopped a moment, straining to hear the sound of insects or birds, something indicating life, and she did hear it from up ahead. A few more dozen yards brought her to the edge of her wards, and to an extraordinary and horrifying sight. Life sprung up on the other side of the wards, as bright and vibrant as it had been the last time she had stepped outside the tent, but up against that boundary were piles of dead things, thousands of those flashing insects as well as small mammals and a few birds, all piled against the barrier as if they had been trying to escape their deaths but couldn't get out, though she had designed the wards to allow them to leave without problem. Their bodies rested in piles against the wards as though they were as solid as brick, and these animals had been desperate to escape the horror inside, instinct telling them that their deaths were immanent.
A noise sounded behind her, and she spun, raising the wand, but it was only Kylo, eyes studying the death around him, an unreadable look on his face. She concentrated on his feelings, and found they mostly mirrored her how, fear, confusion... but his emotions were also tinged with guilt. But he hadn't been able to leave the tent before now, and the last time she had been outside the forest was very much alive. Why would he feel guilt over everything around him?
"My wards... they should have been able to get through. I must have made a mistake, and somehow the wards..."
"Killed trees within hours?" he interrupted.
"That's where the wards end," she motioned to the piles of dead creatures.
"Why would they crowd there if it were the wards killing them? Wouldn't it make more sense that they try to cower somewhere closer to the tent?"
She bit her lip.
"Something else happened here," he murmured, looking around as though he were avoiding eye contact with her.
"Do you think we're in danger?" she asked softly.
"No," he replied confidently.
"Then what...?" she asked.
He shot her a look, then started back towards the tent. She looked around one more time, straining her ears in case Kylo was wrong, but as she walked back realization washed over her. Kylo was so confident that they weren't in danger because he had somehow caused all the destruction. But how? How had he killed so many things without her noticing the show of force it must took, and why had he done so? And if he had killed everything nearby how had she been spared?
"You did this!" she accused as she burst into the tent.
Kylo, who had been walking towards his bunk, stopped mid stride. At first he straightened up, but a moment later his shoulders rolled forward and he turned to look at her. "Yes," he confessed softly.
"How?" she demanded.
"I'm not exactly sure. I was straining, trying to use the Force for something, and I must have drawn what I need from everything around us."
"What were you trying to use the Force for?"
He looked at her for a long moment. "I saw your death," he murmured softly. "And I was only thinking of saving your life, and I knew I had to... I tried to use the Force. I tried to take the life around me and give it to you. But I wasn't where you were, I was here. So I stole the life of everything around us to try to give it to you.."
"That doesn't make sense," she whispered.
"Does anything about you being here make any sense at all?" he asked, stepping towards her. "There is no reason for you being here. You should be dead. But you're here. Why? Do you have any other explanation?"
She shook her head, biting her lip. "But why?" she asked. "I took you prisoner, I'm keeping you here. Why would you want to save me?"
"For the same reason you called for me," he murmured, standing over her now and studying her face. "I never saw you, but I heard a voice. Not Snoke, not Luke, your voice. You know what I've done and you still tried to reach out to me. You had the means and the opportunity to kill me, and you instead took me prisoner. You're the first person in a long time who doesn't think I'm past saving."
"No, I'm not," she insisted. "Your mother..."
"Does she? He asked. "Does she truly believe I'm not past saving? Or did she send me to some outer rim planet with the one person who could kill me? Did she expect you to rehabilitate me, turn me to the light, to change me drastically? Or did she expect you to watch me as does any warden watch a prisoner, and possibly kill me in order to gain your own freedom again?"
"That's a rather bleak view to have of your mother," she replied timidly. "She could have had you killed..."
"She wouldn't. She's still my mother. She's lost the rest of her family, and she wouldn't want to be the one who ordered the last of her blood killed. But she sent me here with the only guard someone who could kill me if I became too much. And if you killed me she would mourn, she might even hold it against you, but I doubt she would be surprised at all."
"She loves you," Hermione said, trying to put a bit more force in her words.
"She loves what I was. She has no hope of me being that again. She knows that person is lost."
Hermione felt a pit in her stomach hearing Leia's voice in her head, telling her that she lost her son. "She still hopes," she whispered.
"But doesn't believe. You," he reached up, cupping her face, "you believe. If you didn't you wouldn't have taken the wards down."
"I do believe," she nodded. "I saw you, you didn't want to follow Snoke. It wasn't until Luke tried to kill you that you really turned. You were betrayed by more than just Luke, and you lashed out after that betrayal, but I don't think your heart is really in it. I think you get by on your anger and the power you get from it, but what I feel from you is so much different than what you show everyone else. You became Kylo Ren because Snoke is the only one who hasn't betrayed you, but I still think Ben is in there."
"You're the only one."
"I don't have to be," she replied. "It's not too late."
And to her surprise he bent his head and kissed her.
