Before
Kylo knows that he's sulking. He tries to tell himself that he's brooding, but no, he's sulking. Lounging in his throne, he has one leg slung over the thick armrest, his head thrown back as he looks at the ceiling. It's been weeks since he's seen her and he's beginning to see her face in the very stars.
Snarling, he stands swiftly and begins to pace, his cloak billowing behind him. He has no guards, not like Snoke. No, he protects himself. Besides, he doesn't want witnesses when she finally appears.
That almost kiss stalks him. His nights are full of heat and skin, imaginings that bleed into the day with alarming regularity. Has it really been eight months since Crait? Eight months since that hallowed moment out of time when they touched hands? Eight months since it all went to hell?
He doesn't wrestle with the light any longer, no he wrestles with this craving. All his wounded hurt has burned away with his intense, mind bending, soul rending lust. Is it even lust? It terrifies him to the core that he knows it's something far deeper.
That word though, he won't think it. It has no place for someone devoted to the dark. Passion, yes. Desire, oh very much so. But that word reeks of compassion that he has no room for that in his heart. A heart completely owned by Rey.
Force, he misses her. He'd happily stand and let her berate him if he could just see her eyes. He'd darken star systems to be able to touch her again.
The Resistance is so close to extinction that they've become impossible to find. It's like looking for a rat in the undercity of Coruscant. They move quickly, never staying anywhere for long and he's running out of places to look. He needs to find her. He needs to see her.
He needs to know if she's as desperate as he is.
Pacing to each wall, his boots pounding the floor, he's about to go to his training room when he almost runs her over.
She's … panting, sweat streaming down her face, her skin flushed a very suggestive shade of red and he's torn between terror that she's fighting for her life or something altogether more threatening.
Her eyes go wide with shock and she drops something, but he can't see what it is.
"Are you alone?" he growls.
"Yeah," she sighs, and he tries to cage the jealous rage that had been gathering. She's clearly not in danger, nor with another man. Training. She's training, just like he had been about to.
Now that he takes her in more fully, he sees that she's changed her clothing again. She's in pure white and it taunts him. She practically shines with the light. Oh, how he wants to show her the beauty of the dark.
His fists slowly uncurl, and he tries to get himself into some semblance of balance, but he'd been so worked up that he can't seem to find that calm she inspires.
"What has you so tense?" she asks. She's not snarling or spitting fire. She doesn't seem to be having any trouble controlling herself.
"I can't find you," he growls.
"Good. I don't want to be found." The certainty in her voice casts him in a role he's growing familiar with. Supplicating suitor.
"Don't you though?" he rumbles, moving closer to her.
She blinks at him and shakes her head. Now that he's closer, he can see that she's trembling. Good.
"The next time we meet, I'm going to bring you to justice." Her voice isn't as firm this time.
"You still want to kill me?" he asks curiously.
Genuine fear fills her eyes and she gasps, "No!" Then she looks away and murmurs. "Justice, I said."
"Ah, so you think you can capture me."
"Isn't that what you want to do with me?"
"Oh, no, I want you willing," he purrs and smiles a cruel smile when she shivers. He pins her with his gaze, and she doesn't move away as he circles her like his prey until she can't see his eyes any longer. In her ear he whispers, "I know you wanted to stay with me. I dream of it. Do you?"
His breath stirs the fine curls next to her ear, and he can sense the same need wafting off of her. He's not alone in this fire.
"Do you, do you dream of me?" he murmurs, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear as he slides one gloved hand along her neck, pressing her back against him.
Her head lolls onto his shoulder and her eyes are closed. The column of her throat beckons him and leans down, sucking just a bit at her pulse. Oh, gods, she tastes so good. But then she stiffens in his arms and she's running. Running from him.
Now
Ben spins her around the dance floor and Rey's laugh rings out. She'd picked up the steps quickly, following his lead with impressive competence. It had taken him many arduous hours as a boy to learn how to dance, but Rey's body is always in tune with his own.
"Oh, I think I need some fresh air," she pants out. She's had several glasses of champagne and her eyes are glassy and full of elation.
He guides her out onto the veranda, the night sky brilliant with a field of stars. This part of Naboo isn't awash with artificial light, so they twinkle and for a moment he can only stare. He remembers when he was lost to the dark and seeking Rey in everything, the very stars.
It's not exactly a happy memory; he doesn't like remembering the chaos in his head when he wore Kylo Ren like armor. He can't remember why he ever tried to protect himself from Rey.
He feels her hand on his shoulder and he turns to look at her, finding her face full of concern.
"Ben? Where'd you go?"
"I'm right here," he assures her, pulling himself from memory.
"But you weren't. You seemed … you seemed like you were hurting."
"Just remembering. What a fool I was for that year after Crait. Hell, since I first saw you."
"Hmm," she hums. "I wasn't at my best, either."
"Don't say that. I left you very little choice."
"I know … but I've always wondered … what would have happened if I'd let you kiss me? You know the time."
The animal, base part of him that he keeps firmly away from her to the best of his abilities awakens, knowing full well what would have happened and the thought, though inflaming, makes his heart shrink.
"No. Kylo Ren did not deserve to kiss you. He didn't deserve to touch you." He'd fantasized so many things he'd never imagine now.
"Oh, Ben … don't you know it was always you trying to reach me?"
He shakes his head. "No … that part of me … I don't want it anywhere near you."
"But what if I want to know him, too?"
"Kylo Ren is dead."
"But you said he'll always be a part of you."
His face screws up in frustration. She's right. He just can't find the right words. He can't bring himself to admit how debauched and depraved those dreams had been. Rey is to be cherished. She's sacred.
Rubbing his face with his hand, he sighs. "I just … I want to protect you from that aspect of me."
"I love all of you."
"He doesn't deserve your love," he says bitterly.
"Well, you have it. All of you."
Ben nods slightly, not wanting to argue.
She looks at him with concern and something akin to calculation. "Alright, Ben … you'll see. In time, you'll see."
Then she's kissing him, and his hands slide down her bare back. All that matters is this. He won't let Kylo Ren ruin it.
He needs to be alone with her, so he winks away the guests with a thought and leads her to the center of the ball room. The music is ethereal and sweeping, making him need to hold her close as he moves her across the room.
It's a piece he's always loved; it made him imagine wide open spaces and fields of color. Now he thinks of the blossoms of Jakku. He thinks of Rey.
He may not fully understand himself, but he knows he's Ben Solo. He'll always be Ben Solo for her. Holding her eyes with his, he pleads with her to feel how much he loves her with his hands and his gaze.
Rey returns the intensity of his stare, her hand clutching his shoulder and the other squeezing his fingers as he turns her around the room.
Gods, he misses the bond, the way he could sense her, know she could sense him. He needs her to understand how desperately he loves her. But the way her eyes are so open, so deep, he feels like she's hearing him.
The music builds and he wraps his arms around her waist, filled with such adoration; he lifts her, looking up into her perfect, beloved face. He can't imagine a life without her smile and, as if she's heard his thoughts, she beams down on him.
It's right, somehow, to be looking up into her face. She is the heavens above, his guiding star. His light. His soul.
As the lilting melody crescendos, he spins with her high above him and she lifts her arms, laughing as she looks about to take flight. Then, as the music begins to ebb, he slowly lets her slide down his body, never taking his eyes from hers as she touches down.
"Rey," he murmurs.
When she wakes, she stretches languidly with her good arm and Ben is lying beside her.
"That was amazing," she sighs as her eyes flit to the sleeping tablets. But Ben is going to hold firm this time.
"No. You need to stay awake. At least for a few hours. Get outside, stretch your legs."
"Why?" she whines, and he blinks. He's never really seen her be petulant before. This would be so much easier if everything she did wasn't adorable.
"Because this just isn't healthy. We need to start working on how to bring me back. I know it's possible, I can sense it. I didn't truly die. We can't do that if you're asleep all of the time."
"Can't we work on it while I'm sleeping?" she argues.
"Not unless you can figure out how to bring the Jedi texts into your dreams."
Oh Force, now she's pouting.
"You know I'm right."
She sighs but she nods. "I just … I just got you back. Can't we enjoy each other for a little longer?"
"Rey, we still have the nights. It's just a bit less time."
"But when I'm in your arms I don't have to …" she trails off and won't meet his eyes.
"Don't have to what?" he encourages.
She huffs out a long breath and fiddles with a loose thread on her blanket.
"Rey?" he pushes, worry lacing his tone.
Now she does look at him. "I don't … I don't have to think about it."
"About what?"
"Everything."
She sits up, so he mirrors her position, both sitting cross legged, looking at each other. He waits to see if she'll say more. He finds if he's silent, more seeps out of her.
"I know you were here, that you … saw. But I don't think you can really understand what losing you did to me. The Force … it took everything from me. And then it took you, too," she says mournfully.
"And it's given me back," he points out gently.
"In a way." Then she looks at her hands. "But not really. If I'm sleeping, we're together, like we should be. Everything is okay. I don't have to face that I don't really have you."
He remembers. He remembers every day, watching as her spirit ground away until it was little more than dust. Would it be so wrong to give her this time? Let her heal?
Something discordant in the Force pulls at him and he looks around sharply. He rarely senses anything in this state—that he feels it so keenly is important. He has to go back to his non-place.
"Did you feel that?" he asks.
"Something felt … wrong."
"I have to talk to my mother."
Panic streaks through her eyes. "You're leaving?"
"Only for a little while. Eat something. See the sun. Please. I'll be right back."
Her voice is painfully young when she says, "You promise?"
"I promise. Remember. Nothing can keep us apart."
She smiles shakily. "I remember."
His mother is already waiting when he returns to that space of nothingness.
"What is it, what's happened?"
"Oh, thank gods you heard me. You haven't been accessible for days!"
He takes in a relieved breath. It was just his mom calling him home and he cracks a rueful smile. "Rey can see me!"
"I know, I know, Son." But she doesn't seem happy. If anything, her face is grim.
"What's wrong?"
"She's … she's fading. The bond between you is so strong, we think she might lose her hold on life, join you here."
No. No! Rey will have her beautiful life, full of family and belonging and healing and everything she should have had. His fists clench and he again remembers that he can't break anything here.
"What do I have to do?" he asks desperately.
"We don't know. We've never heard of this. But … I think she has to live again. It's like you're tethered, and you're anchored here while she's letting go in life."
"She … she wants to just be with me in her dreams. It's like she's lost her spark, her fight. Almost as if learning about the Emperor … it was too much. I think it finally broke her," he admits, his voice cracking. Like his heart is cracking.
"You have to get her off of Jakku."
Ben nods. Yes. That's a good start. Get her away from all the reminders of how she was failed utterly by everyone who should have taken care of her.
"She's … she's taking sleeping tablets, so we can be together."
Leia breathes in sharply. "That must stop. She'll just slip away."
"I know," he says miserably, finally seeing just what he's been avoiding in the haze of love and pleasure. "It's only been a few days," he offers with a bit of hope.
"Then she should be fine. But much longer and you might have a real problem on your hands. She must stop."
"I'll talk to her. I've already been gone too long.
"Go, go to her."
He gets the strangest thought, then. He wishes he could hug his mother.
"Rey!" he bursts out as soon as he returns. But she doesn't hear him.
She's already asleep.
A/N: Thank you, ArtemisBare! You really cracked me up this time, one of these days I'll post your comments on a chapter because they are GOLD.
Thank you, Readers! I'm sorry I was gone for so long, but I'm back! Thank you for reading, following, favoriting, and leaving a review! It really does motivate me. You're all gems and I adore you!