Dawn

It was morning. The lights were slowly coming up, creating an artificial dawn that was meant to keep the circadian rhythms of life forms functioning while in the endless night of space.

He lay very still, feeling Rey breathe against his chest, in sync with his own breathing. She was still soundly asleep, lips parted, snoring lightly, eyes fluttering under her eyelids, body warm and soft and limp, her arm and leg draped over him. She always slept like that, using him as a giant pillow. He never asked why, afraid she would think he didn't like it – and he did. He did like it. More than he thought he should. Kylo Ren shouldn't like to cuddle. But he did. Having her insist on touching him as much as possible when she slept soothed a part of him that he had thought long dead.

'Ben, this is the fourth night in a row you've come in here in the middle of the night.'

'I think there's something in my room. In the corner. It has black eyes and they watch me.'

'You just had a bad dream. Go back to bed.'

'Can't I stay here? Please? I won't take up much room.'

'You're five. Way too old to crawl in bed with your parents. Now off with you before you wake your father.'

'But Mommy, please! I don't wanna go back. It's dark and cold and the thing…'

A deeper, gruffer voice. 'Go to bed, kid. Now.'

He crept back to his room, wishing for the cozy warmth of his parents' bed, the soft caress of his mother's hand on his back. But he was a big boy, too old for cuddling, so he wrapped himself in a blanket and curled in a ball and screwed his eyes tight shut in the hopes of keeping whatever lurked in the corners out.

"Shhh. I'm here now." He hadn't realized she was awake, or that he was projecting. She shifted so she was even closer, warm silky skin rubbing against his, her breath tickling his chest. "I'm here, and I'm never leaving." I need this as much as you do.

And he saw a tiny girl, also curled in a ball inside a blanket….a dingy, threadbare blanket, in a corner on the floor, silent tears leaking from her eyes as she stared through a crack in the metal of the old AT-AT, looking up at the stars and wondering where her family was, and why they hadn't come back yet. Why they didn't want her.

He tightened his arms around her. "They would have come for you if they could have."

"But they sent me away, to the Academy."

"I know. And you felt…"

"Discarded."

"Betrayed."

"Unwanted."

"You'll never feel that way again," he said pressing soft kisses on the top of her head, against her hair, on her temple.

"Neither will you," she whispered, kissing his chest, shifting so she could nuzzle against his neck.

An insistent, familiar knock at the door interrupted their reverie. Kylo sighed, untangling himself from Rey, grabbing a robe and smacking the opening mechanism with more vigor than necessary.

"Ren."

"Armi." He smirked.

Hux snarled. "I have come to inform you we will be entering hyperspace momentarily. Our ETA to our destination is five standard days. Your presence on the bridge is required."

"Ah. I see. Thank you."

The general stayed there, shifting from foot to foot. Hovering.

"Is there something else?"

General Hux stuck his hand out, shoving a piece of flimsiplast out to Kylo Ren. "Here. My son wanted you to have this," he said, not making eye contact with his dark associate.

Kylo looked down at the small picture the general had foisted on him. It was…a picture of him? Or at least, a tall, dark column with sticklike arms and legs and a round head. "What is this?"

"A picture. Mellowyn insisted I give this to 'the big one'. That would be you. I have another," the general held out another picture, this one of a smiling face framed by brown curlicues that must have represented hair. "He said this was for 'the pretty one'.

Kylo took the two pieces of flimsi and held them awkwardly. "Why has your offspring produced drawings of us?"

"He is two. He likes to color. It is a gift. A sort of…thank you gift."

"Ah. Well. Then please express our appreciation to him."

Hux nodded, still not making eye contact. "I will do so. Good day, Ren." And he turned on his heel and walked away.

"What's that?" Rey asked as the door slid closed.

"It appears the small Hux has created artwork for us."

Rey took the flimsis, her face lighting up in a grin. "Aww. How sweet! It's us!" She turned toward the kitchen and, rummaging in a drawer, found a magnet and attached the two pictures to the front of the conservator.

"We're displaying them?"

"They're precious!" She was looking at the pictures, her eyes shining, her cheeks glowing pink, a wide smile on her lips.

He was looking at her, only her, standing in his kitchen, wrapped in a blanket, her beautiful face glowing with happiness. "Yes. Precious." He said.

"General? General Organa? I have important intelligence reports for you. Urgent."

Leia sighed. "What now, Threepio?"

"Well, it seems the First Order is massing their fleet."

"Massing their fleet?" A surge of adrenaline shot through her, years of being on high alert kicking in.

"Yes, ma'am. Our resources have picked up a pattern in the movements of the ships whose locations we know."

"Where are they heading? Here?" She would have to implement one of the worst-case-scenarios. Ten…or eleven? Her heart contracted and her limbs felt heavy.

"No. At some point in the Unknown Regions. Almost all of their ships are on a trajectory to reach the same coordinates at the same time."

Not coming here. Not the worst case scenario. Air rushed out of her lungs.

"When?"

"In three days."

Three days. They had time. Time to plan. Time to do something. Time to finally try to make it right. "Show me."

"Artoo?" Threepio said, and the smaller droid beeped and projected a star chart. "If you look at this map, you'll see the ships for which we have known locations. And you'll see that they're all converging on this point, and should all arrive at about the same time…three days from now. Except this one." He pointed at a single ship that seemed to be on the same course but behind the others.

"The Finalizer," she said grimly.

"Why yes, ma'am. How did you know?"

"Scenario four. They're planning a mutiny. And the Order is on to them. Frack. Call the select committee; we need to meet. Now. And have Dameron put Black Squadron on alert."

"Yes, ma'am! And ma'am? I'm glad to see you…back." If droids could purr, Threepio would have been purring.

She chuckled. "Do you know what I would like to do, Threepio?"

"Hear the rest of my meticulously prepared report, ma'am?"

"I'd like to find my younger self and kick her ass. Drinking whatever those Ewoks handed her. Smoking whatever those Ewoks handed her. I'd have a lot less problems if I had just gone to bed early instead of partying. We partied for days, Threepio. Days."

"Yes, ma'am. I was there."

"And Han was so convincing. So charming. So persistent. Of course I married him. I loved him. So much. And he loved me; I know he did. But we…we had no idea what we were doing. And suddenly we were leaders and, kriff, Threepio, we were just kids and we were expected to fix the whole damn galaxy. And then we were having a kid. A baby. I was so happy, but I didn't realize…the time. The commitment. I was pulled in so many directions and…well, if only I had done things differently…things wouldn't be such shit now."

"Are we discussing feces now, ma'am?"

Leia (Skywalker) Organa Solo, last Princess of Alderaan, royalty by birth and adoption, war hero, senator, general, looked at her droid companion. "Precisly, Threepio. Fracking, kriffing feces. That's what everything is right now. But I'm going to try; this time, I'm going to try to do it right. "

"Yes ma'am. May I proceed with contacting the committee now?"

The worst thing about droids was that they simply had not sense of awkwardness. Of course, that was also the best thing about them.

"Proceed, Threepio." She smiled, and this time it was sincere. Leia could finally, finally do something to help, and she was in her element.

"If you're ever going to help, now would be the time."

Rey stood with her arms folded across her chest, a scowl on her face, staring at Darth Vader's helmet. She wasn't even sure why; she had just wandered into the small chamber, almost unconsciously. Of course, she didn't really expect an answer from the helmet. She wasn't even sure Kylo had ever gotten an answer from it, and if he had she doubted it was Anakin Skywalker doing the 'answering'. But, just the same, she was standing there, staring down what remained of Darth Vader. The helmet was warped, twisted – like the man who had once worn it. But according to Luke, he had died as Anakin, not Vader. Was any part of him really connected to this remnant?

She huffed in exasperation. This was dumb. She was just on edge; that was all. And being in this chamber didn't help. She glanced at the low urn. It made her feel ill at ease. She took a step closer, held out a hand toward it. A sense of dread oozed through her, a dark foreboding as her hand neared the soft gray ashes. She snatched her hand back, and decided to ask Kylo what exactly it was when he returned from the bridge; he was still expected to make an appearance there sometimes, although almost all his other time was spent with Rey, training or…not.

Her gaze returned the helmet. She reached out her hand, this time feeling no warning prickle. She barely touched her finger to the side of the helmet. "No words of wisdom? No 'here's the secret to defeating a dark overlord'? Right. No worries. I'll manage." As she turned to leave the chamber, she felt something. If a whisper were a physical thing, that's what she felt. A whisper, touching her arm.

"Wait."

She froze. Then she spun around, to the right, the left, looking. No one was there.

"You can…hear me…" The voice wasn't a voice so much as a perception.

She nodded.

"Finally." The word formed without sound.

She backed against the wall.

"Tell him…been trying…to get through but…" The voice was barely there; no, it wasn't there, and yet she heard it, felt it, writing the words on her consciousness.

"You've been trying? To speak to him?"

"So long. Only managed once and…incomplete. Misunderstood. Couldn't…too much darkness… until you…" The voice was fading, weak.

"Wait, come back! Stay, until he gets here! It would mean so much."

"I'll try…again. But I can't…save him. You…you're…his…only hope." The shadow of a voice faded away to nothing.

"Great. Thanks. No pressure." She slid down the wall, heart pounding.

When Kylo returned to his quarters, he found Rey sitting in the corner of his meditation chamber, her knees pulled up to her chest, her eyes huge.

"Rey, what are you doing in here?" His voice was low, his eyes dark. She suddenly realized she had never exactly been invited into this chamber.

"I…I shouldn't have come in here. I'm sorry. It's private, I know and…I didn't mean to pry…"

He hurried to her, knelt beside her and pulled her close "No. Nothing I have is closed to you. I just never wanted to have to explain…but what happened? Why are you so upset?"

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you." And she replayed the scene over the bond.

When it was over, he sank into a sitting position beside her. His hands were shaking. "He…spoke to you."

"He's been trying to speak to you, but he couldn't. He said there was too much darkness."

Kylo leaned his head against the wall. "Too much darkness. So my uncle was telling the truth about him returning to the light. All this time I've been seeking his guidance to find the power of the dark, and he could only get through to you, to the light. My light. My beautiful light."

She shook her head. "I have darkness, too. We both do. And light. But…it doesn't have to define us."

He nodded, lost in thought.

There was something else, something that was bothering her. "Kylo? What...what's in the urn?"

He took in a deep breath. "I'd rather not…"

"I need to know. Are they…his? Your grandfather's? Because I feel such…dread from them. Such bleak hopelessness. But not from the…the helmet."

He shook his head. "No. They are not."

"Then what…"

He clenched his teeth. "They are the ashes of…my enemies."

A look of horror crossed her face. Ashes of his enemies? As in, people? She pressed herself away from the urn. "Enemies. People you…you killed."

"Yes. Rey, I…it doesn't even make sense to me when I say it. Can we please just not?"

"Why? Why would you keep…"

"To enhance my power, my connection to the dark. And I felt darkness from them, strong, pulling me down. I thought it was helping."

"Yes. I feel it. Sinister. Dark. Deep. But not helpful. I don't…I don't like it. I don't like being here with them."

He nodded.

"Was it Snoke who told you to keep the…the remains?" Her voice cracked.

"Yes."

"They have to go."

"I…yes." He looked at the urn. "I'm not sure what to…how to…"

"When someone dies onboard, just a regular crew member, what happens to them?"

"Cremation. Then burial in space. Released out an airlock with a small ceremony."

She nodded. "Then that's what we'll do."

"We? You'll help?"

"Of course."

"Then tonight." They were silent for a while. Then he looked at the helmet again. "I…he spoke to me. Once. Right after I acquired the helmet. I had already joined Snoke, embraced the dark side, but I was still…conflicted. Tormented by guilt and uncertainty. The helmet was supposed to help me, give me purpose. When I touched it…it was like what you experienced…words with meaning but no form…he said I was supposed to…to finish what he started. I had been searching for guidance for so long. The Supreme Leader…"He sighed. "Said that grandfather wanted me to pick up where he left off. Bring order to the galaxy. Stamp out the Jedi, who limited the Force. Bring back the Empire. He said it with such certainty, such conviction, so many times, I felt sure he was right. But I kept reaching out to grandfather, asking, begging for guidance. I wanted to hear it from him. I wish…"

"He said he would try to come back. I…I think touching it helps?"

"And you being here." He turned, reached out and traced a hand reverently across the helmet's brow, down the cheek. "Grandfather?"

The voice floated on the air, rippling through the room on not-quite-sound-waves. "Ben. At last. I've been trying…need to tell you…what I meant…"

He gulped. "Wh…what?"

"Finish…what I started…didn't mean…"

The words wavered, but came back.

"…didn't mean the Empire."

He clutched Rey's hand; his breath was coming in fast gasps. "Then what…what did it mean?"

"Balance. Bring…balance."

"Yes. Yes, grandfather. But how?"

"Do…what you are planning. I wish…I had been strong enough…to do that…sooner. Use both…dark, light, together…with her…balance…may the…Force…be with you…both."

The voice was gone. Kylo was still, kneeling in the chamber where he had begged so many times for strength. For guidance. And now he had gotten it and it wasn't what he expected at all. It wasn't a path to deeper, more consuming darkness. But it wasn't a strict order to turn back to the light or be lost forever, either. It was…so much more complicated. To use the light and the dark, to embrace both…to bring balance.

He was still clutching Rey's hands, and she was clinging to his, and they were both silent, reverent, soaking in the strange, profound experience.

A/N

It's so fluffy I could die! Yes, lots of fluff at the beginning of this one; I was just in that kind of mood. It might have turned smutty, but Galactic Cockblock showed up, with perfect timing as usual.

Little Ben just wanted to cuddle…and escape the scary thing watching him. If only they had let him. (My kids crawled in the bed with us until they were, like, eight? Yeah. They'd go to bed in their own little beds, but most nights, especially when they were small, they'd end up in our room. And I let them. But I found out most people strongly disapproved of that. And did it help or hurt? I dunno yet.)

Thanks to JuliaAurelia for the idea of Mellowyn coloring a picture for Kylo, and for talking about what to do about the ashes with me.

Leia's desire to give her younger self a good talking-to is loosely based on Carrie Fisher's similar comment (and her wonderfully perfect swearing) at the Force Awakens premiere. Because I love her.

I can't seem to avoid a bit of Force Ghost Anakin in my stories. He'll be back briefly but won't be a big character in this story like he is in my other one.

Thank you for reading! It thrills me to no end that people enjoy my story, my interpretation of these amazing characters, and the words I put on the page. I'm so honored, especially when you tell me; reviews make my day (or night)!