Rey

When they returned to the main base Leia asked to see Rey. She was in a hurry to see if Ren had sent her coordinates—She couldn't stop thinking about him. Stupid man. She had gone to clear her thoughts and had only become more muddled. She'd see him then return to Luke—she needed his guidance. Surely something was wrong with her. So she said her goodbyes to Finn and Han and Chewie, who had already returned, and hurried to Leia's office.

"Ah, Rey." Leia said, standing and opening her arms. Rey stepped into the embrace, still feeling a little shy. She had gone years without touching another person, and now it was so…normal.

"How are you?"

Rey brushed her hair behind her ear and gave a small smile. "Good. Wasn't a very successful mission though."

Leia scoffed. "I heard." She tilted her head. "You know, I'm not as adept as my brother and my son, but I do have the Force."

Rey looked up and examined Leia's dark eyes, nodding slowly. "Yes—Ren told me."

"He spoke to you about me?" The sudden yearning in Leia's eyes made Rey's stomach flip.

"Yes," she said quietly. "But not much."

Leia nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. "I see." She moved to sit down on a small, light couch and gestured for Rey to sit next to her, which she did. Rey ran her hand over the smooth surface and waited for Leia to speak again.

"Anyways…I know you said you were good, but you don't feel good. You feel conflicted."

Rey sighed, her lips twisting into a frown. She avoided Leia's eyes.

"I am."

Leia said nothing, but Rey could feel her through the Force, that yearning again.

"Not about Ren," she said. "I mean, not really. I can't seem to get a hold of this meditating thing."

She felt a bit awkward, unsure of how much Leia knew. Biting her lip, she started again. "I'm supposed to be able to really let the Force flow through me, let myself become one with it. But I only did it once, in the forest while fighting Ren. Now, every time I get close, I'm snatched back."

Leia nodded thoughtfully, eyes crinkling with concentration. Rey fidgeted a little, unhappiness drawing over her. She had wanted so much to come back with a new harness on the Force. But she hadn't even been able to use the Force to defend her friends against the Kanjiklubs.

"You know, you and I are a lot alike."

Rey looked up, and then a smile etched into her mouth as warmth spread throughout her chest.

"My brother and Ren have never gotten along. Luke strives to be like the Jedi of the past—pure, unbiast, calm. Ren embraces the dark. He yearns to be one with it. But I've never been able to feel at home with either one."

"What?" Rey said, brow furrowing. Everyone knew the tales of the Force—there was the Dark, and there was the Light. Peace and chaos, night and day. They moved in opposition, hopefully in balance.

"I know," Leia interrupted. "But life is not black and white. For some, it may be their nature to be truly light, or truly dark. But I find in myself, inner balance doesn't come from two sides at war. It comes from them blending, swirling together—to make grey."

Rey knew what she was saying, but it went against everything she had ever heard. Everything she had ever read in Luke's hideouts. How many times had he spoken of the fight between dark and light, how his father had chosen the light at the end of his life? If he had lived, would Anakin Skywalker have struggled with being in the light? Would he, the man steeped in darkness, be truly able to just…switch?

"I'm supposed to become a Jedi," Rey said slowly. "A soldier of the light."

Leia covered her hand with her own. "And you will be. But I believe you will be something entirely different than the old Jedi order. You will truly be able to find balance, and bring it to others."

Reys cheeks burned and she shook her head. "I can't even find balance in myself," she said with a chocked laugh. "And you think I'm going to start some kind of…Jedi revolution?"

Leia smiled and leaned back. "Yes. Feel what is right, don't worry so much about shutting out the darkness. Let it in, but don't lose the light. You'll find that balance means finding the perfect mix. No tugging or pulling."

Rey nodded numbly, her head buzzing with thoughts. In her heart, she was hopeful. She felt like endlessly fighting the darkness she knew she held inside her was hard, too hard. She had been trying and trying, but it was what always snapped her back. Luke seemed to be able to fight it, but he had truly done what the Jedi Order wanted—He had separated himself from all his bonds, choosing instead to live a life without the comfort of others. Rey didn't want to live that way. She thought of her friends, of Ren. She couldn't live that way.

Leia hugged her goodbye and Rey went to her borrowed ship on auto-pilot. She wanted to bang her head against the wall. Why was this so hard? She grew even more frustrated as she saw a message on her dash—the coordinates. She rested her head against the control panel and just breathed. She felt pulled in every direction. She had never felt this way before. On Jakku, everything was black and white. She had one goal: survival. There was nothing that tore her apart like this.

Torn apart…

She closed her eyes. So this was what Ren was talking about. Surely it was different for him—more intense, she'd imagine—but this was very, very unwelcome. She swallowed hard, shocked to find her eyes pricking with tears. Her back straightened and she punched in the coordinates into her ship. With thin lips and a set brow, she tried just to focus on what lay ahead: she was going to see Ren. She could forget for a few days, maybe. The pit of her stomach was uneasy; he was sure to see she was conflicted. She didn't want to tell him about her conversation with Leia, and her struggle with the darkness. She didn't want to argue with him.

But a very small, small part of her ached to tell someone who would understand. Maybe, a voice whispered, maybe Ren would be just the person to understand.

Shaking her head, she pushed the ship into hyperdrive. She wouldn't think of this now. She'd think of it later, when her thoughts had settled.

Ren

He arrived on the frozen planet of Hoth a day early to prepare. He wanted their time together to be perfect; they had so little of it. The old Echo Base had been bombed by the previous Empire, but since the AT-AT's had been taken down, there was not too much damage to make it unlivable.

Ren had been here before with his parents. They had one of their good spells, wandering off and giggling like teenagers. At nine years old, he had been disgusted by them but entranced by the place—it was something built from nothing. Icy cold with the exception of a single hot spring fifty meters below the surface, the place had glittered with a sheen of ice without heaters.

He expected the place to look exactly the same as it had then, and he wasn't wrong. Only the tracks had been erased—yet he could almost hear the echo of his parents laughter. It made the back of his neck prickle, and he assured himself that it would disappear once Rey arrived.

He occupied one of the General's quarters and cleared the fireplace which he stocked with wood he had brought on his ship. He had loads of supplies and extra heaters and blankets so Rey wouldn't be cold. She was so sensitive to low temperatures. He would keep her warm.

The place echoed terribly, so Ren kept his helmet on and the hearing system down as he worked. The silence irked him. With their small quarters defrosted and the path to the hot springs cleared, Ren was satisfied as he laid down that night. It was untouched, completely isolated. Perfect for the two of them.

When she arrived, the single sun was high in the sky. She landed outside, but he stayed within the shadows—he didn't have sun goggles without his helmet which he had of course taken off for her. The excitement in him and the anxiety from waiting made him incredibly eager. He had thought of nothing but her since he saw her last. He had sensed her friend—and his father's—protectiveness over her and had been angry ever since. She was his to protect. If only she would stay with him. He would never let her fall into dangerous hands. He was jealous, yes. He was worried about her Finn and resented his very existence. The thought that he had thought of Rey and him together made Ren sick. Did the former trooper plan on trying to steal her back with affection? He had no idea.

But this was almost forgotten the second she walked off the ship. She was hesitant, golden in the shadows and the evening sun. "Ren?"

Relief exuded from his every cell, and she must have sensed it for she came closer.

"Rey," he replied as he stepped from the shadows, watching her hungrily, trying to notice every detail. Her lips turned up and she ran to him as he stepped forward. They collided halfway, his arms coming around her tightly to hold her and not let go.

She laid her head against his chest, eyes closing. "Ren…"

His face was buried in her hair, letting him listen to her every breath. He missed that sound, the sound he once fell asleep to. The darkness fell away, his attention completely diverted. How could he have forgotten? How could he have forgotten this feeling, this fullness that replaced the emptiness, the warmth? She was important. He had almost forgotten in his fear and jealousy.

"I missed you," he said quietly, his voice much gentler and having lost its urgency. She drew back from him, scanning his expression. He touched her cheek, letting himself gaze at her for another moment, even though her eyes were full of questions.

"Are you alright?" she asked, and he nodded, a smile playing on his lips. He would have lingered there, in the sun with her in his arms, but she had already begun to shake with cold. Her thin jacket was nothing on Hoth.

He took his off, cursing himself for not bringing her one from the room and draped it over her. They exchanged a quick kiss.

"I'll bring your ship in," he said. "Go get warm—down the hall and to the left. The second door.

She hesitated, a flash of worry in her eyes, but then she nodded and left. He parked the ship inside and closed the great metal door to prevent any snow or storm from coming in. Thank god they still worked.

Her cheeks were rosy when he entered, and she had stripped herself of her outer ware, already only clad in her shirt and leggings. Even her boots were off.

She turned to him with hesitant eyes and he searched her feelings, finding her uneasy.

With a frown he stepped closer and she reached for him.

"What's wrong?" He asked. "Did I forget something?"

She shook her head. "No, no."

He stared at her until she wavered, but her face closed shut. "I don't want to talk about it," she said quietly. "I just want to forget about everything for a while."

He was burning to know, to find whatever hurt her and soothe her wounds. But with a breath, he nodded. He needed to give her what she asked for. She would open up to him when she was comfortable. He couldn't push.

And then she was upon him. Pushing off his under jacket, sliding a palm under his shirt, kissing her deeply. A great hunger bloomed inside him, one he had pushed dormant for what felt like ages. He pushed their bodies close until they were up against a chilly wall, but she was warm, so warm like the sun. She stripped his shirt and undershirt off, and he did away with hers. Their mouths met again and again with ferocity, and he moaned into her mouth when she ground her hips against him. He took large handfuls of her bottom and squeezed until she jumped up into his arms, her legs winding around him. Her fingers dug into his dark hair, pushing their lips together without parting.

He took her from the cold wall and carried her to the bed. They parted with a gasp, and then he laid her down, standing at the edge of the bed. She sat up enough to remove her breast band as he tugged off her pants and underwear, his cock twitching unbearably as she became bare before him. She fumbled with his belt and then shucked his pants down his legs as he began stroking at her wet slit, so pink and pretty. Waiting for him. He began to kneel, but she stopped him.

"No, I can't wait," she said breathlessly. He nodded, words were lost to him. His finger entered her and he tried to curl it the way she liked, but she pushed his hand away.

"No," she groaned. "Not your fingers. I want your cock, Ren."

"Rey," he ground out as his fingers splayed across her open thighs. "Say it again."

He was as hard as a rock. Fluid wept from the tip and his abs tightened in anticipation.

Her eyes were bright and she ran her hands up his arms. "I want your cock," she said, pink blooming in her cheeks. He moaned and then forced himself to breathe. God, she'd make him come without a single goddamn touch. She was the most desirable thing he'd ever seen, sexier than any woman in a porn holo and more precious than everything else. With his pants still around his ankles, he pushed into her as he stood before her.

A long and low sound came from her, and it only increased in pitch when he began thrusting. It was too hard not to go fast even though he wanted to be gentle with her. He always tried to be gentle with her. But she was having none of it, not this time.

"Harder, gods, harder!"

"Yes, yes," he hissed. Her face was already contorting with pleasure, and he pushed himself deeper, harder until she came. He slowed his thrusts to eke out her pleasure and to keep himself from coming with her. He wasn't done yet. He was Kylo-fucking-Ren, and he would not come so fast, like a teenage school boy.

Her cheeks were flushed and half her hair was loose. Her breath heaved with pants, and as he looked at her, in all her exquisite beauty, an idea formed.

"Do you trust me?" he asked her.

Her eyes were wary, but after a moment she replied, "Yes…"

He withdrew from her, his member gleaming from her and throbbing. He turned her over, draping her over the bed and drawing her bottom to him. Her back stiffened, but he ran his hands down her soothingly. He found her slick opening and pushed back in, grinning when she sighed, her shoulders relaxing. He thrust lightly at first, kissing down her spine and sucking a mark on her neck, making her squeal. But he had delayed himself long enough, and his thrusts grew erratic. She leaned down over the bed, arching her back and pushing herself back against him.

He knew she wanted him to come, to met her at the exctasy she had felt. But he was determined and drew a hand to the front of her folds, circling her. She cried out and he preened. Only he was to ever hear her like this. Only he would every have her on her knees like this for him. She only trusted him so much.

Thrust after thrust grew harder, faster, uncontrollable. He felt like nothing could stop him. Suddenly, she clenched around him and he came immediately, thrusting into her a few more times to draw it out. He kept himself inside her as long as possible, never wanting to part from her. When he drew himself from her, wetness slipped down her thigh as her walls contracted around nothing. He watched, fascinated as his cum dripped down her. He only remembered himself when she said his name.

He got onto the bed and drew her to him. Slipping a leg between hers, regardless of the dampness, they pressed together. He kissed her deeply, slowly, wanting to convey all the tenderness he felt.

"That was…" she trailed off.

"It was very, very hot." He whispered against her ear. She closed her eyes and nodded.

"Felt so good," she murmured. "Nothing compares."

No, he thought. His fantasies never competed. She was like a dream come to life.

She slept for a while, cuddled against his chest, but he did not. The chronic pain in his chest had eased, and he was relaxed. He enjoyed stroking her bare back and listening to her small breaths and snores. He was able to examined her peaceful face at length. Shadows laid under her eyes, but her freckles were distinct from the sun, sprinkled sweetly across her nose.

When she awoke, she tried to lay still and pretend she was still sleeping. But Ren could feel her nervous energy swirling around them. He brushed his thumb against the base of her back and murmured, "I know you're awake."

Her eyes popped open and she frowned, her lips forming a little pout. "I wasn't pretending," she objected.

"Yes you were," he said emotionlessly, his fingers dancing across her skin.

She huffed but didn't reply.

"Are you going to tell me what you're thinking about so hard?"

She shook her head. "No."

Irritation surged, but he beat it down before replying. "What could be so bad," he tried, gently.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, lifting herself up. He thought she was going to shy away, but instead she slipped her leg over his hips and kissed him.

He was aware she was distracting him, but she was very skilled. He eagerly dove into her mouth, his head straining up to catch her lips longer. She drew back, a dreamy sort of smile on her face as she looked down at him, and he was struck by how glorious she was.

But he yearned for more from her, and sat up with her still in his lap. "Why don't we go for a dip in the hot springs? It's warm."

She wrinkled her nose. "A what?"

He smiled. "A pool of naturally hot water. It's down deep, below the surface."

"Really? Like…a bath?"

He nodded, and she beamed, bouncing a little on his thighs.

"I've never had a bath," she admitted, somewhat bashfully. He didn't want to tell her it was more like swimming than a bath, so he only smiled back at her.

They dressed, her quicker than him, and he insisted on fastening a large coat for her when she struggled. They made their way down stone steps, holding onto the wall, for the steps were a bit slippery. When they drew close the thin sheen on ice dissolved into water and led to a big, open cavern. Hot water steamed from where the stone cut away.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, and began stripping immediately. Startled, he tried to catch up with her, fighting with his layers.

"You remember how to swim?" He asked, muffled by a sweater.

"I think so," she said. "But maybe you could give me a refresh." She grinned at him cheekily, and a chuckle burst out of him.

She hesitated in her underwear. "Should I leave my underthings on?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "We were naked together only thirty minutes ago."

Her cheeks were pink, perhaps from the heat. "I didn't know."

She removed her breast band and underwear and jumped in while he tried to peel off his pants, coming up gasping.

"It's so hot!" she said.

"That's the purpose," he said dryly before almost slipping. His head darted up to see if she saw him, and she had. Her hand covered her mouth but her eyes with mirthful, and he was immediately was embarrassed.

The hot water was not uncomfortable, but his skin immediately pinked. She paddled over to him and he wound an arm around her waist. Tendrils of hair curled around her face from the heat, and she reached up to undo her buns, letting her hair fall down her shoulders.

"I love it," she said with a smile. "It's perfect."

He tilted his head at her and kissed her cheek. She slipped her arms around his neck and hummed.

He held her close and was surprised to feel her feelings turn to melancholy.

"Rey," he said lowly. "What's wrong?"

She leaned back and tried to even out her expression, but eventually her face fell.

"You're so…"

Immediately he inwardly recoiled, waiting for a harsh word. Violent? Brash? Angry?

"You're so gentle. Here. With me."

His expression must have been severe, because her fingers came up to smooth out his brow.

"I mean, you are so different than you are…elsewhere."

"And?" he said tightly. He knew where this was going.

"Why can't you be like this all the time?"

He wanted to drop her, push her away. He was hot, too hot.

"I can be angry with you," he growled. "I can be just as terrible as I am elsewhere."

Her eyes narrowed and she ignored him. "You are so turbulent, but you can be calm. You can be careful, and sweet, and—"

He did drop her. She couldn't touch, but grabbed onto the side of the pool to steady herself and glared.

"We've been over this," he seethed. "I will not explain myself again. Either you accept me or you don't."

"Don't shut me out," she said hotly, but then her tone gentled. "Please."

He closed his eyes and took a breath. He couldn't do this, not with her.

"Let's forget this. Let's just do something else," he said, his voice almost steady.

She bit her lip and worried it between her teeth. "I talked to Leia."

His blood pressure must have skyrocketed. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ear. His fists tightened and he took a few steps away from her.

"Don't, Rey."

"I'm not going to say what you think I'm going to say," she said quickly. "Just listen."

She took a breath when he didn't immediately protest, and said, "My meditations haven't been working. I can't connect to the Force. Every time I try, I fail. Like I…like I'm not…" She struggled and faltered, and somehow, in his anger, he found sympathy for her.

"I think it's because of the Dark side. I felt it, that day on Starkiller. You know I did."

He looked at her, really looked at her. "I know."

She looked down at the water. "Leia told me that she doesn't think that it's right for me to try and fight to be in the Light. I can't let go of all my attachments—I can't be like Luke. She said I should embrace them both, let them combine…into grey? So I wouldn't be fighting against one or the other."

Why was she telling him this? He thought of her of the light—yes, she had accessed the Dark side, but she was much more light than dark, if he had to guess. But he knew much of the fight, the struggle. He had tried to be light, and now he tried to be dark. But it was never enough…He was close, but…

"And?" He said thickly.

"And I think that's where you are. That's why we…we are so similar. But you lean towards the dark, but if you just stopped the struggle to push out the light—Which you know you have inside—maybe, then you could be at peace!"

As if called to him, the darkness swirled around him, numbing him. Insecurity rushed into him and he swept his hands apart, the water swirling away from his accidental use of the Force.

"No!" He shouted, and then all was quiet. She was looking at him with an expression he could only describe as heartbroken. It almost softened him.

"No," he repeated. "Do not mistake what we have for the Light. It is not a light in my darkness."

She said nothing, only wrapping her arms around her.

"I love you," he said. "But this compassion is the way of the dark. Passion, fire, lust is the way to power. My grandfather loved my grandmother. It was loving her which turned him to the Dark side. It is why he was so strong."

Rey's voice was soft. "You know you can't have attachments. And he was heartbroken. He killed her himself because of the Darkness."

Hatred clawed up his throat but he bit the awful words back.

"He did not," he growled.

She didn't say anything, but he knew what she was thinking. She was thinking about him and her, and about his grandfather. She just didn't understand.

"I just want you to know that there's another way," she said firmly. "I know you never felt right when you worked with Luke. Maybe you felt like I do, like you're not good enough."

Her head dipped down and a pang hit his black heart.

"Maybe you felt like you could never be what they expected you to be. That you're not what they want. But maybe it doesn't mean you have to push yourself to the dark side."

He kept his words to himself and only watched her as she met his eyes.

"I know you have been in pain. You've been torn apart, pulled like I have felt… and I think you will never be able to be fully dark. I think Snoke's lying to you. You want peace, but what will bring it?"

For a few minutes his thoughts were too loud. He tried to quiet them, but nothing worked until his vision focused on her expression, which was vulnerable.

"Rey," he said quietly and she looked at him. "I don't have any answers for you."

He took a breath and took a few steps closer to her. "I know what you want. I would give you so much, but I will not abandon my master or his training. I know my path."

Her shoulders fell but he edged closer. "I don't consider my mother to be wise, but if you are feeling that way, perhaps she is…right. I want you to be at peace."

She swam towards him and took his thick biceps in her hands, her fingers digging in. Her expression was fierce. "You have good in you. You know what we have is not light or dark. Admit it."

He looked at her gravely, and said nothing.

"Say it," she said, her voice spiking. "Tell me our love does not fuel your anger and violence and whatever else!"

"It does not," he said.

She launched herself at him and buried her face into his neck. "How are we to do this if we are never to meet in the middle at all?"

He curled his arms around her. "We will figure it out."

She shook her head. "You hurt. You are in pain. It's like a phantom, following you around even when we are together."

"I can't fix it," he said. "Only you take the pain away."

"Ren, please. Couldn't you just try?"

"Rey, I won't—"

"Please, just try. Please. It's all I want. It's all I want."

He could feel her despair. She wanted to imagine a future of them where he had control over himself, where he could be the kind of man she deserved. A man not steeped in blood and darkness. A small part of him wanted to be that man.

He stroked her wet hair and he was shocked to find his cheeks wet. He tried to scrub it away but he felt her sympathy. Somehow she knew.

"I can't promise," he said.

She felt hope and it stabbed at him.

"Try?" She said into his neck. He closed his eyes and rested his hand on the back of her neck.

"Alright, alright." He didn't know whether it was a lie. He wanted it to be. But it niggled at him. It was not just because it was what she wanted. The future she had envisioned for them long ago was the same he wanted. But how? It was not the power he worked so hard. Why?

She kissed his cheek and cuddled against his skin. Numbly, he pressed his lips to her hair.

Perhaps it would be a reality. Perhaps.