Sounds and smells and flashes of half-remembered scenes flooded into Kylo's mind. He should have known better than to touch the soot-covered metal of the lightsaber half-buried in the dirt, yet it had called to him... beckoned him... He knew exactly what he'd been reaching for, and yet he couldn't contain himself.
And then it had whispered his name.
Not Kylo.
Ben...
That was all it had taken for him to reach out and touch the tip of a single gloved finger to the blackened metal of the powerful weapon.
It hadn't been a strong Force imprint, but the flash of a child's fear and the scent of charred flesh had been enough to snap him out of his state of nothingness and right into a downward spiral—straight into his own memories.
Nothing was cohesive.
Nothing ran together in order—it was as if his mind was pulling memories from every dark, hidden corner of his consciousness and tacking them together in some horrifying attempt to overpower him.
It succeeded.
He let it.
Curled up in the foetal position, Kylo tore his gloves off without thought, wrapping his hands around the cold durasteel hilt after yanking it from the ground, his forehead pressed against the tumble of stones lying beside his body. He was consumed with the desire to relive the memories that were flashing through him with greater speed and frequency.
He needed this. As much as it pained him, he needed to confront this.
It was why he'd come.
...
Ben Solo had known they would come that night. He had set the beacon as instructed. He had chosen this night, when Luke would be away until the early hours of the morning.
It gave them enough time.
It needed to happen this way, Snoke had said.
If there were to be true balance, it needed to be like this.
Ben hadn't believed every word he'd said—he wasn't stupid. The man had been in contact with Ben for years and knew exactly what to say to entice Ben... but he knew that he couldn't accomplish his goals—his grandfather's goals—from his current place in life. He needed Snoke, and the Knights, just as they needed and wanted him.
They would serve their purpose.
For that same purpose, the Jedi needed to go.
They had no place in the world he imagined.
...
A flash of red hair peeking out from the edge of a cowl as an orange saberstaff cleanly pierced an older Padawan's heart.
The young man had been set to take his Trials next week.
Ben looked away.
...
The scent of charred flesh.
The coppery tang of blood in his mouth, and its smell upon the air.
...
Smoke filled the air around him, choking him and forcing him to raise the cloth to cover his mouth and nose once more. Embers and ash drifted in the air from existing flames, starting new ones as they landed on any and every flammable surface in the vicinity.
It wasn't supposed to have been like this—
...
Screams. Fear. Anger. Pain... all drifted around him as if they were riding the tendrils of smoke that suffused the grounds and buildings.
It permeated the Force, filling him and threatening to consume him with the emotions raging through and around him. The deaths of so many Force users was creating a black morass from which it was becoming increasingly more difficult to escape from.
Ben focused in the way that Snoke had taught him, turning the emotions around and using them for his own benefit.
He refused to be swept away.
...
The Knights moved through the buildings like ghosts... spectres of death come to lay waste to those who stood before them...
Ben watched as a large man—the one he understood to be the leader of the Knights of Ren—chased two screaming girls, stalking them slowly and toying with them as they ran towards Ben. He saw the exact moment the Younglings noticed him, their faces filling with hope and relief and chasing away the exhaustion and fear that had consumed their features moments before.
The Knight was slowly gaining on them, his masked face not allowing for Ben to see what the man was feeling—but he could feel it through the Force... a belligerent joy that sickened Ben.
All of the deaths were supposed to have been merciful—that had been part of the agreement. Quick. Not torturous. Sacrifices for the end goal, and something insisted upon by the Knights of Ren for their assistance and alignment with Snoke.
Ben ignited his lightsaber, the familiar and steady yellow glow calming the two young children who had finally halted just steps before him. He whispered a beseeching prayer to the Force... to the Maker... to whoever, or whatever, was listening—if they would still listen to someone like him.
Ben clenched his eyes shut and then forced himself to open them, meeting both girls' eyes, one after the other.
He lifted his saber and swung.
...
The screams had ceased.
The flames raged higher than ever.
The clock tower shuddered and groaned, and then finally toppled over, sending a cloud of dust upwards to mingle with the twin plumes of black and white smoke swirling in the air.
...
"I saved them from a worse fate..." he kept whispering to himself.
He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince.
...
The forest was burning.
Night seemed like day.
Ben's heart pounded in his ears as he surveyed the damage before him from the top of the ship's ramp.
Everything was gone. Everything was destroyed, and everyone was dead.
All because of him.
Oh, the Knights of Ren might have found the Jedi on their own at some point... but Ben had helped that eventuality in becoming realized.
"We can finally be properly introduced."
Ben jerked his gaze from the sights outside of the ship and settled it upon a large, burly man. He held the hilt of a lightsaber in one hand and a cleaning cloth in the other, but his eyes were focused on Ben. Ben's eyes flicked briefly to the mask sitting on the shelf beside the man, and then back to his face.
It was the man who had been tormenting Ysha and—
No. No names.
Ben attempted to school his features. "Yes, we can."
Yet he made no attempt to introduce himself.
After a pause and a quick but intense scrutiny, the other man clipped his saber to his belt and then pocketed the cloth. He clasped his hands behind his back. "I am Dojyl Ren, the First Knight," he stated. It wasn't a boast; he said it as a statement of fact.
"Before you introduce yourself to me officially, I will offer you this one chance to decide who you are—who you wish to become."
Ben had been aware of this rite of passage within the Knights of Ren. Snoke had mentioned it in an off-handed manner but it had stuck with Ben ever since. He had thought non-stop of what name he would choose, if he ever took those final steps, knowing that it did not matter as long as it was anything else.
He didn't want any vestige of his old life to come with him on this new journey. 'Ben' had become synonymous with the apathy of his parents, the cool dismissal and disappointment of his uncle, the regret that they felt every time they looked at him, the fearful glances that those around him sent his way without even realizing it...
No more.
"My name is Kylo," the fifteen-year old announced firmly... fiercely.
Dojyl Ren inclined his head towards him and Ben—no, Kylo—was filled with pride and excitement at the respect he was being shown. It was more than anything he'd experienced before, it seemed.
"Welcome... Kylo Ren."
Kylo looked beyond Dojyl at the two to three dozen men and women who were perched on various parts of the large interior of the ship. They were all staring back at him.
He felt... welcomed.
Respected.
Wanted.
Kylo Ren reached for the lightsaber at his waist by feel. Without looking at it, he threw it out into the smouldering ruins of the Jedi Academy. The one he had helped build.
It was now his past.
He turned back towards his future.
"Thank you."
The smiles that greeted him made it all seem worth it.
...
Kylo came to, lying on his stomach, face plastered to the dirt beneath him, tears coursing down his cheeks and causing the dirt to stick wetly to his face.
He groaned as he rolled over onto his back. It was day and the bright sun was piercing through his eyelids and scorching a path straight into the back of his skull. Coupled with the weakness of not having eaten—who knew how long the visions had held him under—and the emotional ravaging that the visions had pulled him through...
He felt like he'd been trampled by a gang of veermoks and then left out in the sun to broil.
It was not a pleasant feeling.
He stared down at his hands, his mind desperately hoping that he was remembering wrong, that he wasn't holding a piece of his old self tightly within his grasp...
No such luck.
His eyes darted away, clenching shut as hard as he could manage before he opened them again.
No.
It was still there, the durasteel handle no longer cold and covered in soot, but warm and shiny from his prolonged touch. Despite the conflict in his mind, he did not let go of it.
Something compelled him to bring it... with him.
Carefully wrapping his mind in blankness, he shakily pulled himself to his feet. As he walked unsteadily towards the still-open ramp of his shuttle, he realized that his black robes had turned grey with the amount of dust and dirt which they had accrued. He truly must have been caught within the visions for a long time, though it hadn't felt that long. He knew that the Force could sustain a body without food and water through meditation... it made sense that it could do the same for prolonged Force visions as well.
Kylo wasn't too surprised when he glanced at the date on the console—five days had passed since he'd landed. Five days that he'd been held within the vision.
Kylo felt... empty.
He felt used and discarded, tired and worn out... His mind put through the wringer.
He carefully—as though it were an explosive and not a bladed weapon—set the lightsaber down at the far end of the common area's table, and then looked away once more.
He shuttered his mind again, focusing for the moment solely on pulling apart some ration packs and devouring them as quickly as he could before drinking cup after cup of water. It was as if he was insatiable, but Kylo knew that he was overcompensating for the expenditure of power that the Force had inflicted on him to maintain his body throughout the days he'd been held in the visions. If he didn't eat and drink now, he would pay for it sooner rather than later.
Finally... finally Kylo caught his body up on enough nutrients—and more—and sat at the table with his head in his hands. He opened himself up to his memories once more, knowing he needed to filter through them.
The memories felt... muted, somehow. As if he were looking at them through a filter; as if his emotions had been stripped from him, rubbed clean, and then returned to him. They were still there... just less.
Less all-consuming, less impactful.
Until his mind came to the memory of the two young girls.
His emotions bubbled up within him, stronger than anything else since he had realized how muted they had become. He felt everything, and he shuddered to think what would have happened if the emotions had not been lessened.
A distant part of his mind realized that the Force had granted him a gift. Yet he had no time to focus on that—to focus on why.
His mind was latched onto the feel of his lightsaber—the old one he'd lovingly crafted as a child even before he'd joined his uncle, and which was currently resting on the table oh so close to him—in both the present and in his memories... on the feel of it slicing through flesh...
He knew—he absolutely knew—that he had granted those girls mercy that Dojyl Ren would never have given them. All of the Younglings, Padawans, and Jedi at the Academy had had to die that evening... but the Knights had promised swift, merciful deaths to their enemies.
It had taken everything in him to not strike Dojyl down right in that moment. He had quelled his rage and despair—only just—knowing that he could not stand against the First Knight. It was then, standing over the bodies of the children he had trained and lived with... it was then that he had vowed to himself that he would one day lead the Knights of Ren.
But what Kylo was feeling so desperately in that moment was a sense of loss; a terrible feeling that he had done something terrible that he could not come back from.
The girl... the other girl, Açyvo... she looked so much like how he imaged a young Rey would have looked like.
The reminder of Rey had plunged him deep into regret. A part of him still cared that Rey had personally betrayed him—and Hux—so that she could release someone she had known for barely a month. He had seen in her mind and knew that she was still loyal to them, to the First Order, to the Knights...
He shoved that thought aside. It did not matter right then.
What mattered was that he had just up and left them both—that he had left Hux to deal with how to handle Rey and her punishment; that he had left Rey on her own with danger lurking in many different corners...
It did not matter how much Rey would need to work for his forgiveness.
All that mattered was that he would have to ask for hers and Hux's.
And yet he knew that he could not leave just yet.
There was work that needed to be done.
The Force was calling for him to lay the dead to rest properly—Kylo's eyes tightened and a still-muted spike of anger flashed through him as he realized that his uncle had never returned here after that first and only time he'd been here after the attack. Luke Skywalker had abandoned his duties and had abandoned those who had trust him their lives... and with their deaths.
The rites had not been spoken.
No one had ever set foot upon this planet since.
The Force cared not that he had taken part in their murders—it only cared that he was a Force user who could perform the rites.
Standing up from the table, Kylo hesitated briefly as he felt his hand guide itself to hover over his old lightsaber—over Ben Solo's lightsaber.
Kylo Ren finally picked it up and clipped it to the back of his belt, horizontally.
If nothing else, it would be a good meditation aid.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and then, after a pause, smiled fondly, realizing that he was copying a mannerism of Hux's. Hux who he desperately wished to see again, to kiss again, to touch again, to take and own for the first time... and Rey who he just as desperately wished to hold, and kiss, and make love to until she could handle no more, and then do it all over again, no matter what she had done.
The Force had shown him—had given him insight into his own shortcomings as a youth—that loyalty could be given to those who did not entirely deserve it. Yet that did not make the giver of that loyalty a bad person... it only meant they could make mistakes. It meant that they were human.
All could be forgiven. Anything for the right person.
And she was. Hux was. They both were.
Kylo took a deep breath in and let it out, calmer than he had been since arriving. Finally, he started to move, focusing on the coming rites that he would perform, and what exactly he could use from the shuttle that would work in lieu of the more traditional materials.
The sooner he finished what the Force demanded of him, the sooner he could return home.
She grasped at her head and struggled to pull up her mental barriers. She had been unprepared, and thus it took longer than it should have for her to defend herself. By the time she was closed off tightly from the Force—though she could still feel it beating against her with all the rage of a Jakku sandstorm—she was curled up in a ball on the floor, fingernails having dug crescents into her forearms until they pooled with blood.
Rey lay on the floor, her body slowly relaxing from its curled up position but ready at any moment to tighten inwards once again. She was tense, on alert... but suddenly feeling so tired and weary, as if she could collapse back into sleep once again.
What was that? It was all that she could think about. The thought kept running over and over in her mind as she lay on the floor.
It wasn't that she couldn't get up... it was more than she didn't want to. She still had yet to wrap her mind around what had happened, and so she stayed where she was in case it occurred again.
Was it... had something happened to Kylo?
Rey held her breath and clenched her eyes shut.
Oh Force, she hoped not.
But... the rage and despair that had flooded her before she'd blocked it had felt remarkably similar to what she'd felt from Kylo in the past.
She must have drifted off because her eyes suddenly snapped open and she tensed as a foreign body lifted her into their arms, cradling her against a softer upper body than either of her men could lay claim to.
"What—?" Rey tried to speak, only to be shushed.
"Shh, quiet." Savat Ren's voice was low but firm, and Rey couldn't help herself—she obeyed the command and quieted down as she let Savat carry her without fuss.
The other woman's strong arms flexed beneath her, and Rey felt... comfortable. She wasn't quite sure why she wasn't freaking out as she normally would when being touched by someone she was mostly unfamiliar with, but Savat's disposition and character exuded gravitas and a commanding presence; one that said she would take care of those she deemed under her care and protection. And Savat had told her that Rey was indeed under her care, the other day when she'd happened upon them in Kylo's bed.
She flushed at the memory but had no time to dwell on it as she was suddenly being gently deposited on the couch, and a blanket pulled over her lap.
Rey pulled herself into a sitting position, leaning against the couch's arm with her legs curled up on the cushions, and watched as Savat swept her cloak off of her shoulders and deposited it onto one of the end tables. She then adjusted the hilt of a lightsaber on her hip enough so that she could sit in one of the armchairs—Rey's eyes zeroed in on it, curious at the sight of the longer than average hilt.
Savat eyed her as she brushed her red hair from off of her face, her expression unreadable to Rey. After another moment of silence, Savat lifted her commlink and entered a code, waiting patiently for the person on the other end to answer.
"Yes?" came Hux's voice, causing Rey's heart to stutter at the sound. His tone was cool, expecting a good reason for the disruption.
"I am in Lady Rey's rooms," Savat answered evenly. "There has been a disruption in the Force, and I found Lady Rey upon the floor. I believe that it would be beneficial for you to be here when I explain to her what occurred to have placed her in such condition. It concerns your... Master Ren."
There was a brief pause, and then, "I'll be there shortly."
Rey's eyes widened and her breath quickened as Savat returned her commlink to her pocket, realizing that Hux would be coming here and that she would be seeing him for longer than she had at any previous time during the last four—five now? —days. In an effort to prevent her heart from beating out of her chest, she sat up straight, placing her feet upon the ground—though still clutching the blanket over her chest—and asked Savat, "Is that a double-bladed saberstaff?"
A corner of Savat's mouth quirked up slightly before she patted the hilt to her side and replied lightly, "It is indeed. Would you like to see it?"
Rey held up one hand and waved it loosely. "Oh, no. No, not right now. But... maybe another time? I..."
"I've seen you practice with the staves here," Savat interrupted smoothly. "You're quite proficient with them. It made me wonder why you did not have one as your main weapon."
Rey took a moment to formulate her reply; she had never really spoken about this with anyone since arriving here months ago, even though Kylo knew the bare facts. "I grew up with a staff and, later, daggers as my only weapons. I learned that to survive I must excel at them—and survival was everything on Jakku." Savat nodded encouragingly but did not make an attempt to speak up, so Rey continued. "My lightsaber is... I found it, I suppose you could say."
Savat raised an eyebrow at that, but again did not interrupt.
"The topic has not come up to create my own lightsaber, and I have been training with mine as it has... called to me. It still does," Rey added as she recalled the odd tingles she would get and the whispers she would hear every so often when she touched the cool metal of Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber hilt.
"Then," Savat said quietly, "It would not do to contradict the Force. Yes?"
"I guess so," Rey replied, nearly as quietly. Then she cracked a lopsided smile. "I still think it would be cool to learn how to use a saberstaff, though. Maybe one day?"
"Maybe one day," Savat agreed with an answering smile, fuller than the last. "I would be happy to teach you when that day comes."
Rey's smile inched wider and then she and Savat settled into a comfortable silence, neither knowing quite what else to say... but also not wishing to engage in seemingly meaningless small talk in that moment. It was a relaxed atmosphere; not tense in the least.
Rey found she rather enjoyed Savat's company. There was something about her that helped her relax... that helped her mind to blank and release some of the tension and uncertainty that had plagued her since the night Kylo left.
The door hissed open and Rey stiffened slightly, casting her eyes to the floor as she heard the sound of Hux's boots crossing the floor.
He stopped in front of where she sat on the couch, and lifted his hand to hover beside her cheek. He hesitated another moment before he closed the distance between their skin—it was only as he touched her cheek that she realized he must have removed his gloves upon entering her rooms.
Rey glanced up in time to catch him settling into a crouch in front of her, adjusting her eyes back downwards as he lowered himself. His eyes were searching every inch of her body, his thumb sweeping rhythmically over her jaw line in a manner that made Rey's eyes start to flutter.
He hadn't touched her in days...
After another moment of staring at each other, another moment of Hux ensuring she was alright, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. His breath hitched slightly as he whispered, "I forgive you."
Rey's eyes immediately began to moisten and she blinked furiously as she pulled her face back from his to gauge the seriousness of his words. Hux had granted her forgiveness before she had even fully apologized? It seemed like madness, and yet...
And yet he was being entirely sincere.
Rey leaned forward and, not caring one whit about their audience, pressed her lips to Hux's in a brief kiss. "I'm sorry... Taj..." she whispered back as she drew away.
His slight smile promised so much, even as he gave her one last caress with his hand and stood up, turning finally towards Savat Ren. "What happened, Savat?"
She raised one eyebrow at him and nonchalantly crossed her arms and legs. "You might want to sit beside your lady there. It's a fairly long explanation. Or, at least, longer than you'd like to remain standing. And seriously. Give that woman some love. She needs it after all these days locked up."
Hux stiffened. "How did you know?" he asked sharply.
Savat slowly sat up from her lounging position. "What? That you love her, or that she was locked in here for the last five days after that prisoner escaped? Awfully coincidental that one, but stars, what do I know? I didn't see anything, so I know nothing."
Hux and Rey simply stared at the Knight. One beat, two beats...
"What is your point, Lady Ren?" Hux sputtered.
"Are you going to sit, or not?" Savat asked calmly. "I don't have to tell you any of this if you don't want to."
Hux stiffly sat himself down on the couch beside Rey, and all she could think about was that he hadn't denied what Savat had said.
Was it possible that he loved her as well? Was it truly possible?
Rey took a chance. She moved herself over until she was pressed against his side, not caring that Savat was witnessing every moment of the exchange. Hux had two options: refuse to respond, or lift his arm to embrace her.
He chose the latter, his arm wrapping tightly around her shoulder and pulling her even more firmly against his side. Rey lifted one hand and placed it on his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath her fingers.
She sighed contentedly.
After a moment of simply pondering the two upon the couch, Savat began to speak, and Rey and Hux immediately tuned in to listen to her words. They did not, however, remove themselves from each other's embrace, for which Rey was extremely grateful—Hux was an extremely private man and thus he must have felt some degree of comfort with Savat Ren for him to have remained how he was.
"About forty minutes ago a few of us older Knights, who have spent more time than others with Kylo, felt a large disturbance in the Force wash over us—much like how one would describe a tidal wave," she directed the last specifically at Hux, for his benefit, and he nodded respectfully at her for her thoughtfulness.
Savat tilted her head to the side and then tapped her chin with a finger. She furrowed her brow and gazed around the room for a minute as Rey looked on, curious as to what the older woman was doing. Finally, Savat settled back and smirked. "No video or listening devices, General?"
But before Hux could answer, Savat continued as if she hadn't even stopped, "We've felt it a few times before and thus knew how to deal with it. But this one was stronger than normal. I knew that Rey would likely, as his Apprentice, have felt the wave as well and not been aware of what the cause was. So I came here and found her on the floor. She definitely felt the wave.
"But I called you here, General, so that I could share with you something that I know Kylo would not ever fully explain to either of you—and, as someone who cares deeply for him, I feel like this is something you must know.
"Based on your question about the Academy the other day, Hux, and the general location that the disturbance in the Force originated from, I would guess with ninety-eight percent accuracy that Kylo just landed on the planet that housed Luke Skywalker's Jedi Academy."
Rey's hand made a fist in the fabric of Hux's uniform as he eyes widened slightly. Kylo had gone to the site of so much pain? Oh... this had to be her fault. She never should have said anything. She should have locked him out of her mind.
She wished that Finn had never told her about the Academy.
Now Kylo was out there, at the location from which so much of his personal castigation and despair emanated from.
Yet neither Rey nor Hux said a word, and Savat continued, settling comfortably back into the armchair. "You asked if I was there, Hux, the other day. I was. It was my first mission, in fact. My first true one outside of our training grounds. I was a little older than normal, at twenty, and it was long past when I should have been in the field, but we hadn't had many opportunities. None of that matters, however," she waved dismissively at her tangent.
"Our First Knight at the time, Dojyl, had aligned himself, and us, with Supreme Leader Snoke, with the hopes of discovering the location of and aiding in the eradication of the last of the Jedi. The Knights, you see—" She looked towards Hux, and Rey realized suddenly that this was likely more than any non-Knight of Ren had ever learned of the order, "—are concerned with balance in the Force above all things. We seek to remove the extremes from the galaxy in order to protect it—Jedi and Sith alike, along with a number of other extremist Force organizations over the millennia.
"Now, at the time we hadn't quite realized how Dark Snoke was—Dojyl simply saw an opportunity to remove the Jedi. One of our primary targets. But there was another purpose for the hit."
"Kylo's extraction," Rey whispered, the pieces finally starting to come together—though there was plenty missing still.
Savat inclined her head. "Kylo's extraction," she confirmed. "Snoke wanted him. As the grandson of Darth Vader, Snoke wanted to mould Kylo into what he wanted him to be—plus, turning General Organa's son against her was a coup."
Rey sucked in her breath at the mention of Kylo's mother, especially in light of the recent attempt on his life that seemed to have come from Organa herself. Hux tensed beneath her.
"Snoke pretended to be pleased when Kylo was immediately accepted by the Knights to their ranks. He had wanted Kylo to be trained with the Knights as he did not have the time to fully devote to his Apprentice, but he had not expected Dojyl to extend an offer for him to actually join.
"You see, Kylo was someone whom the Knights were interested in acquiring as well. It was one of the main reasons why we stuck around once he'd been extracted—it provided constant access to Kylo.
"Snoke saw a Dark Force user, where we... we saw something more balanced. We sensed the capacity within Kylo to be one of the most powerful, balanced Force-sensitives the galaxy had ever seen. Unfortunately, Dojyl did not exactly get what that meant for him, especially since Kylo had a vendetta against him, and the First Knight at the time had grown soft and corrupt," she sneered. "But... that is a story for another time. We are here to speak of the Academy."
Savat pulled herself up straighter in the armchair and then leaned forward to perch her elbows on her knees, clasping her hands together before her. Her flaming hair cascaded around her face and she peered at Rey and Hux from between the curtains of her hair. Her features had taken on a sombre cast and Rey gripped Hux's uniform front once again at the woman's severe expression. Hux tightened his grip around her body in response.
"The mission was get in, get out. Extract Kylo, kill the Jedi, burn the Academy, retreat and return for Luke Skywalker another day. Everything went according to plan, except we hadn't accounted for Skywalker being a coward."
Rey glowered at that and nearly spoke aloud in agreement, but she absolutely did not want to get into what had happened between her and Luke all those months ago... even if Savat very likely knew everything about it already. But, she didn't know Rey's feelings on the matter. Releasing the breath she'd been holding and relaxing the muscles of her face, Rey waited for Savat to resume.
"We..." Savat hesitated. "It was a little tough for some of us, I must admit. We had known that there would be children, but to actually be faced with that reality and ordered to kill them rather than take them with us and train them in our path..."
Rey's heart clenched at the lost opportunities. What would have happened... how might that have changed Kylo's life if the Younglings had been taken rather than killed?
"Our mission," Savat continued, pulling Rey from her losing game of 'what-if', "Took a little longer as the ones who did not wish to kill the youngest made sure to avoid them, leaving them for those who did not mind as much.
"I must admit sometimes it seems as if our order has very little conscience... but there is a line for a good many of us. And that is one of them. Yet the mission needed to be completed. And eventually it was, Kylo claimed his new name, and we departed."
Savat leaned back suddenly, tilting her head back so that the long, pale column of her throat was exposed as she raked both of her hands through her hair. Hux and Rey were both silent as they rested against each other, spellbound by the woman's retelling of a secret part of Kylo's past.
When she straightened once again, she continued, her voice sounding slightly more strained than before. "Kylo wasn't supposed to kill anyone that day. Snoke had not said it explicitly, but he had wanted his new Apprentice extracted with minimal risk—he could be tested with the kill later, he had said. I remember Dojyl speaking those exact words. Well... I saw him in the field. I remember the way he wielded his beautiful yellow saber..." she trailed off for a moment, lost in memory, and Rey pictured a young Kylo... a young Ben Solo... holding a vibrant and perfect yellow lightsaber. Her heart ached.
"I didn't see him kill anyone, but years later he confided in me—I don't know if he'd meant to, but he was so drunk that he was nearly swimming. He confided in me that he'd killed that day at the fall of the Academy. Two girls—"
Rey gasped, and Savat glared at her, quelling anything that Rey would have said. She'd been right, though...
Wrong. Oh, how she was wrong.
"Do not presume, Rey," Savat said, protective of her absent Master. "You know nothing. Or did the Resistance tell you certain things?" Savat's eyes narrowed."I can guarantee you that they do not know the truth. We were there. Yes, you might call us biased, but not a single one of them was there—and did you know that none of them visited the site of the Academy after its destruction, except for Skywalker in the early morning after the attack? He left and never returned."
Rey was stunned, and she hadn't even heard everything. She held her breath and waited for Savat to finish. Hux lifted his other hand and held it over the one she was using to clutch onto his uniform jacket, scrunching the fabric within her fist.
"Two girls," Savat continued, "Were being chased across the grounds by Dojyl Ren. He was one of us who preferred to kill the young ones, and would do it slowly, torturously... completely counter to our orders; to the agreement that Kylo himself had struck with Snoke—and by extension, with Dojyl himself. He thought that no one would notice in the mayhem. But Kylo noticed. The girls..." Savat swallowed thickly, averting her eyes for a moment before returning them back to pierce into Rey's own.
"Kylo saw what was happening. He knew if he didn't do something, they would be tortured. Dojyl thought that Kylo would say nothing, and so had planned to continue the torture as long as he could. The girls ran towards Kylo, having recognized him... Kylo knew that everyone needed to die. He didn't like it. He mourned them in his own way, and never quite got over what had occurred. But he knew that it had to happen."
"So he killed them himself," Hux interjected for the first time, his chest expanding largely beneath Rey as he inhaled deeply.
"He did," Savat confirmed after an assessing glance. "Mercifully. Quickly."
Silence fell over the three of them for long minutes; the only sound that of their breathing. The silence was filled with tension, sadness, and anger... but anger at the circumstances—at Dojyal, and Snoke, and even Luke—and not at Kylo. There was compassion in the silence, as well, and understanding.
And there was relief.
Relief at finally knowing what had happened—what had set Kylo on this collision course with his past when he'd seemingly abandoned them days ago.
No, he hadn't quite been abandoning them... he had gone to face his past.
Savat Ren stood up, gathering her cloak and pulling it around her shoulders. "I see that you understand, now."
Without waiting for an answer, she made her way to the door. However, just before she exited, she looked back over her shoulder at Hux's face, just above Rey's head where it still rested against him. "General," she addressed him firmly, but respectfully. "I expect to see my Master's Apprentice at the training rooms tomorrow after she rests. I have much that I wish to teach her in the absence of Kylo Ren."
And then she left without waiting for a reply.
Hux huffed out an exasperated laugh, his breath stirring the messy hair surrounding Rey's tousled buns. "That woman..."
Rey didn't need to ask if that meant she would be allowed out of her rooms tomorrow; she had her answer. She had too much filling her head right that moment, in any case, for her to annoy Hux with the details of her release.
There were more important things.
Rey pulled back and up, away from Hux's warm body as she sat up fully. His arm slid grudgingly away from her body and he perched it on the back of the couch behind her, looking at her questioningly, softly.
"I need to stop judging people before I know the full story," Rey admitted quietly, sad at the realization that she had messed up so badly; that she had let other's words color her judgment so soundly. She turned to Hux and then leaned in, bracing a hand on his thigh as she reached up to kiss him gently. "I'm sorry, Taj," she whispered against his lips as she pulled a hairsbreadth away.
"I'm sorry, Kylo," she whispered again before settling her lips on Hux's once again.
Rey couldn't quite get to sleep. She was comfortable, warm, and happy, twined with Hux beneath the sheets of her bed, listening to his heart beat beneath her ear where it rested against his bare chest.
His arms were wrapped loosely around her, holding her pressed against his side, her bare skin flush against his.
They had fallen asleep in each other's arms every night for the last two weeks, enjoying the presence of the other at night even though they hadn't had much time to spend together during the days.
The only thing that could have made their life more complete was the presence of one surly—and absent—Force user. Though she and Hux were aware of each other's love, neither had spoken the words. They also hadn't done anything beyond share a bed and a few languid, loving kisses and caresses.
It didn't feel... right, without Kylo.
Rey hadn't felt him in the Force since that incident two weeks ago, and she was beginning to worry—well, worry more. It was what was keeping her up tonight too, she was sure. Rey had been training nearly non-stop with Savat over the weeks since the Knight had practically ordered Hux to release her. They had been going over everything that she had learned about weapons and hand-to-hand combat, and finally Savat had deemed her ready to begin learning saberstaff—two days ago.
It should have exhausted her. In fact, her body was sore in places she hadn't ever imagined she could be sore.
Yet here she was, still awake at nearly one in the morning. She'd felt antsy and agitated all day, as if there were something crawling around beneath her skin. Not even a massage from Hux had helped her, but she'd persuaded him that they should both still try and get some rest—he'd had a long day on the bridge and she'd seen the pinched look in his eyes that had heralded the likelihood of a full-blown migraine if it wasn't treated with sleep.
Rey's mind raced over the things she'd done over the last two weeks—not least of which had been the recording of another video message to her parents. That one had been longer and she'd been permitted by Hux to share certain details of her life aboard the ship, and by Savat to share select stories about her time with the Knights of Ren. She had yet to hear back from them, but she had only sent it four days ago.
She had told Hux about the message from her parents, though she had yet to show it to him—she wasn't ready for that. But it had been enough to open Hux up somewhat about his own parents, and Rey had extracted a grudging promise from him to let her include a personal message at the bottom of Hux's next message to his mother.
She'd kissed him deeply for that concession, knowing from the little he'd told her about the woman that it could be like opening a door that would never shut again.
Yet Rey wanted it desperately—she wasn't even quite sure why it was so important to her.
Rey suddenly stilled at the crackling sound and sight of a very familiar lightsaber igniting, held by a black form illuminated in red and standing in the doorway of her rooms.
"So you have moved on without me?" Kylo's voice was filled with desperation, hurt, and rage—and every last bit was directed at Rey and Hux, who was now completely awake, frozen together on Rey's bed.