And here we go again!
Okay, y'all, heads up: in case you hadn't realized yet, Jae doesn't have her head screwed on exactly right. ;) I know, shocker, right? So she's going to use this term (s-He) in this chapter repetitivly and I just wanted to let you all know what that meant exactly. She's exploring Kylo Ren/Ben Solo's personality and memories through his force so she in a sense becomes him for a while. And because Jae is Jae and she does what she wants with grammer, she/he became sHe. :) make sense? Shoot me any questions you have! I'd love to hear from someone! Anyone? Maybe? I'm just a lonely author here... ;) Please review!
-D.
She had force. She owned force. She needed force. She was Force. Force.
Jae lay on the floor of her chambers, flat on her back, long slender limbs stretched outwards like the arms of a star. Occasionally she would twitch or gasp, but other than those minuscule exceptions, she didn't move from her spot on the floor. She was meditating. Saturating. Marinating. Force.
She had power. She owned power. She needed power. She was power. Power.
Energy twisted and rolled within her like waves of an ocean planet. It sang and screamed within her being, begging for release, for direction, for purpose. She sighed softly and contained it. Her sea. Her ocean. Her own. Power.
She had rage. She owned rage. She needed rage. She was rage. Rage.
Snarling and quivering, wrapping around each of her ribs and coiling tight until they groaned, then caved under the weight of it. She could feel the weight of her enemy atop her as he pinned her to the cell floor. She could feel the panic bubbling from her chest like blood. She ate it up, swallowed it all, and boiled it down into rage. He'd shamed her, enraged her, beaten her. She snarled. She quivered. She boiled. Rage.
Kylo Ren. Master of the Knights of Ren. Force like a red snapping dragon. She found Him. She submerged in Him. She drowned in His sea. She quivered. She boiled in the belly of the red snapping dragon. She studied Him. She knew Him. She owned Him. She felt Him. He was agony. Pain.
She was Him. sHe was Ben Solo. The only one who could ever really defeat Kylo Ren.
sHe had pain. sHe owned pain. sHe needed pain. sHe was pain. Agony.
Did He think this agony was meant only for Him? Did he think Himself the only one capable of wielding this awful power? Did he think no one had ever held a red snapping dragon in their palm? She felt. Him. She explored his pain. Adopted his agony. sHe never knew father. Han Solo. sHe knew of father, but never knew father. sHe was never going to be enough and simultaneously was too much. sHe was a mistake. sHe wasn't supposed to have happened. Mother wouldn't say it aloud… but sometimes she regretted…. Regretted the accident that made this child. This child who knew of a father… instead of knowing one.
sHe knew his worth was little compared to the threat of the power in the body sHe had not asked for. sHe had first wanted to die at six years old. When sHe was fourteen, sHe had a friend. Talia. Too much dark side in her, Uncle said. Banished her. She was ambushed by savages. Slaughtered. Murdered. Raped. Because she had too much darkside. Uncle didn't care. But sHe did. sHe dreamed of Talia. sHe'd seen her death a million times over through force visions. Uncle didn't care, because Uncle didn't have to watch, helpless by the sidelines. Over and over, every night, a million times.
sHe had known sHe'd kill father since sHe was six. That's when the first dream came. The first time sHe had watched father's body, limp and dead, fall from a dark catwalk that flickered in red shadows. sHe'd woken screaming and mother had promised. Promised that such a thing would never happen. That sHe would never hurt that father sHe'd never really known.
But the dreams did not stop. They festered and multiplied. Until all sHe had in that dark skull was images of father, and all the ways he would die that day. sHe played out the scenarios hundreds of thousands of times. To get it right. To save that father sHe knew of. sHe could do something this time. sHe could save him. It wouldn't be like Talia. It couldn't be.
But try as sHe might, sHe could not save father. The first order always caught him and tortured him to death, slowly, agonizingly, until even the great Han Solo broke. Pleaded. Begged. Wept like a child. Lost his mind to insanity. Tried to die, over and over. And never got it right. Always somehow survived. Hated life and pined for death. sHe knew now what sHe had to do. But even after decades of knowing. Of trying to be prepared. sHe almost died with the father sHe had to kill to save. sHe hated fate, hated the hands sHe owned, hated the life this father had created. By accident. Killed by the mistake. The mistake he'd never had the time to get to know. If he'd tried...even once...he would have known that Ben had cried dry, sobbed raw, the night sHe had saved him by killing him. Han Solo might have known that sHe was only trying to reconcile a world only sHe knew was coming, by doing whatever sHe could to affect the outcome. But Han Solo didn't know. Because he was only ever a father that was known of. Never known. And Ben was only ever a mistake that was known of. Never known.
She was Him. sHe was Ben Solo. The only one who could ever really defeat Kylo Ren.
Never known. Never known.
Jae gasped and clawed her way to the surface. Giggling. Cackling. Weeping. Agony was a dangerous weapon to wield. But admirable even so. Not many would be willing to let themselves be swallowed by the red snapping dragon in order to simply understand it. But not many knwe the true worth of understanding the key to this man's incredible force, or his control of it. She would not underestimate him again though. She felt the red snapping dragon curl up behind her pounding heart and light her frozen limbs afire. Burn.
sHe would be his undoing. Because the only one who could ever defeat Kylo Ren… was Ben Solo. And now Ben Solo was hers. Solo.
Force.
Force.
Power.
Power.
Rage.
Rage.
Pain.
Agony.
Burn.
She had Ben. She owned Ben. She needed Ben. She was Ben.
Solo.