CONTENT WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: references to child abuse (non-sexual) and neglect, and character deaths, including the death of a child (all non Reylo).

"She fair, divinely fair, fit love for Gods,
Not terrible, though terror be in love"

- John Milton, Paradise Lost

He is having the dream again.

He holds out his hand, and she takes it. They walk together side by side along the edge of a steep cliff. Waves crash below, and the spray hits their faces. She laughs.

They walk side by side, but she is guiding him. Something dark is up ahead. Something light in his eyes. She is feeding him fruit and her soft words. He is drinking from her lips all he has wished to hear.

Rey stands at the edge of a cliff.

"You go, I go."

She holds his hand and pulls her towards him. She holds his hand and lets her body fall down the precipice. He can't let go, and she drags him down with her.

I can't ever let you go.

Ben opens his eyes.

He lies in a garden. There is green all around. A mossy bed beneath him and a carpet of grass under his hands, sapling trees and growing vines stretching their tendrils like curious fingers overhead. The earth moves. It lives. It sings a song he knows. Not in words but in the beat of his heart, the space between stars, the whisper of the Force unique to every being, like a fingerprint of the soul.

Her soul.

"Rey."

Let it be his first word and the last. He sits up and looks around.

He was killed in a temple on Moraband. This much he remembers. Died and came to life and died again, yet she saved him, remade his flesh, returned his blood, stirred his heart to beating. She brought him back, woke him up. There is no pain in his body. All his wounds are gone. He knows without looking, lets the Force flow through him instead. It seemed so far away as he lay bleeding in her arms, his reserves depleted, his energy gone. But not his heart. His hope. His love.

"Rey."

She stands before him, a saber's length away.

He has forgotten what it is to gaze upon her, to truly look. Not in a dream, broadcast across light years and in the strange alchemy of the Force, not in vacant eyes that cannot see him, that don't remember who he is. He looks at her and she is looking back and Ben Solo, Prince of Alderaan and Emperor of the Known Galaxy cannot move. He is a creature of darkness staring into a sun.

The face he remembers but everything is different. She is different.

Ben.

He can hear her across their bond, surely as if she had spoken out loud. It purrs between them like a contented beast. It has been so long. He wants to cry. He wants to laugh. He hears himself do both as the Force spreads out and moves between them. I hear you. I can feel you. Was it always like this? The hole inside, this bottomless ocean; we are the infinite, all that was and can be. You fit in here. You never left me. I waited. I came too late. I did not do enough. Do you hear this? Do you hear me, Rey?

Ben. Oh, Ben.

He sees so many colors, like the throne room on Coruscant but he never brought her there, never forced her truth to be shared unless she shared it freely. You are not like that crystal room. You are like nothing I've ever seen. It's beautiful; you're so beautiful.

"Ben."

He is on his feet now. If she wants, he will be on his knees. Forever. Let me worship you. I have missed you so much.

A tear slips down her cheek and he is lost. With two strides he sweeps her up in his arms and into a kiss that stops time. My love, he thinks. My love, I'm here. I'm so sorry. There is nothing else but this. His hands are full of her soft, warm flesh—one arm holds her by her narrow waist as he traces the curve of a hip, the other gliding over her back from thin cotton to smooth skin until fingers tangle in long sable strands. Her year of imprisonment has been kind to her body, in the fullness of breasts that were slight before, in the meat of her tummy, in the solid weight that he carries. He thinks of her core and wonders if it too has grown ripe, of another set of lips that could feed him for hours.

She reads this thought and gasps, and he takes the opportunity to lick thoroughly inside her, stroking her tongue with his own until they are both making sounds akin to animals in heat.

"Ben—"

The word is a caress and each breath is exhaled in a blissful sigh. They are his food, he will consume them. Yes, my love. It has been too long. His hindbrain begins looking for the nearest surface to lay her on. Right here, he thinks, right now. In the wastelands of Moraband, in a Sith Lord's tomb, he will make her come and scream and she can bring the walls down on them for all he cares. She can bury them in this place so long as he is buried in her.

The hand on her back reaches down to find the hem of her gown, he slides it up past her thighs to reach a soft nest of curls—

"Ben," she is panting. "Wait—Ben—"

No, he thinks. No more waiting. He spent his entire life waiting, and he won't endure another minute. He won't lose her again. He is crazed with lust, mad with her scent. He pulls away from her mouth to kiss down her neck, lips searching against flimsy fabric to reacquaint themselves with her breasts. His bottom lip drags across something and his vision whites out. Even her nipples have grown thicker and, without thinking, he latches on.

"Ben!"

She is moaning his name, writhing and half-limp in his hold, and there is not enough hands and mouth and tongue to cover every part of her. He presses his head against her belly, down on one knee, ready to ravish her when—

He feels it. There is something in the Force. Not him, not her, but something else…

Ben closes his eyes.

He is blinded by color first, by Light, by her—by all that she is. He swims and he drowns. He sinks in, falling and ever searching, the Force still sluggish to his will but strong, even stronger, free to reach out and so attuned to her signature. It is as if he is weaved into every fiber of her being.

Look closer, it whispers.

He searches her feelings. Her arousal, yes; her ravenous lust that matches his own. But underneath it… hurt and confusion and fear. A rage that is pulsing like a universe being born. A pulsing at her core, sacred energy, pure and unseeing, unknown, wholly new. Something hers and not at all. Small and growing, drawing in on itself, drawing him in like he knows it and it knows him. What is this pulsing little flicker in the Force? Holy flame. Light and Dark consumed, both matter and shade.

A pulsing.

A pulse.

A pulse that is not their own.

Ben draws back. His hand rests on her belly as he looks at her. She nods before the question is asked. He feels again and darling Light and precious Dark thrum to his touch.

Father.

You are a father, Ben.

I'm a father?

"Yes." She is crying.

He smiles. He feels it as forgotten muscles move. He has not smiled like this, never smiled so his whole face relaxes, mouth stretching wide. She can see all his crooked teeth. He knows this. Tears are streaming down her face, down his. He sees the dirt and the black of his blood on her skin cleaned by salty trails. He is laughing.

"Rey."

He collapses into an ungraceful heap on the forest floor she has created, her landing in his lap, gentle and urgent, their shared ardor now forgotten. This is something else. This feeling. Her body; it melts against his. They are one together and something more.

I am a father.

He presses his forehead to hers, cradles her face, kisses her mouth. Each cheek. Her chin. Her nose. She sobs against him, hands gripping his shirt, face slotting in the crook of his neck as his lips reach the top of her head.

"I'm so happy," he says and Rey sobs louder.

Are you happy, love? Are you happy?

I…

"Did you do this?"

Flowers bloom as her teardrops fall and he understands. You are a miracle, Rey. All you are. Every part. Before and now and in the dreamworld. You have healed yourself. Don't you see?

Rey wipes her eyes and holds his gaze. What do you see, Ben?

There is wetness in her eyes and a universe still half-known. He would explore for a million lifetimes, map every star, seek out every planet that makes up the infinite space of her soul.

No. She smiles. It is sad, he thinks. See what else I have done.

He looks around, truly looks this time. Denies the distraction of her body and the pull of her mind to reach out further. Remember where you are.

He is a warrior now, protector and knight, still trapped in the enemy's lair, yet there are only trees around. The Force tells him they are minutes old, seconds in places, a shelter she grew when he began kissing her and manhandling her body. He can feel her blush; not like you think. She shows him as she understands herself: this moment was for them and them alone and so the Force obeyed.

I wanted privacy, she tells him. It was not for them to see.

Privacy from whom?

Ben stands, now alert. They are not alone and he forgot in his lustful craze; he will not forget again. He offers Rey his hand and she takes it, letting him raise her to her feet. They venture out of the glade she made for them and into a broader expanse of the temple. He emerges first, his hand still in hers and his body her shield; he will keep both her and their child safe.

Close by, the first thing he sees is Malaak. The large knight sleeps on his own mossy bed. Ben reaches out and caresses his mind. Unconscious but no longer empty. Did you do this as well?

Rey squeezes his fingers in the affirmative as she guides him to look further. A nudge at his back and he turns to his right. There is a jagged wall of rock twenty feet away; what is left, that is, for now vines crowd every surface. From his vantage point he can make out thick bundles close to the shape of men. They are men, he knows. Rey steps out from behind him.

Before he can pull her back, she lifts up her free hand. The first of the vines instantly withdraw at her silent command to reveal Ersn and Vadanav, bound together and fast asleep. There are no visible wounds, and their minds appear unaltered. Ben wraps an arm around Rey and keeps a hand to her belly as she guides him to the next man-shaped mass.

The bundle of vines unwraps itself to reveal Pular. His head hangs limp, his Force signature gone. He is dead.

Did you—?

"I killed him," Rey says aloud, and there is no regret in her voice.

He stares at the lifeless body of this boy, once brother, and feels her searching his mind. There is an answer to a question that she will not ask.

I have taken life, he thinks. Thousands, perhaps more. I have been god of Death and ruler of men. I killed my father. He looks at Pular and feels only sadness, too much regret for what he could have been. For what Ben should have been to him. "You killed someone who harmed you," he says. I have no right to judge that.

"And the rest?" she says. Her body leans against him, relishing his touch, but she is testing, always testing him but he knows not what for. "Should I kill them too?"

She calls on the final bundle to reveal Alec. He is alive, his face healed and free of its metal mask and eye, mouth moving but making no sound. Ben can sense the permanent damage to his vocal chords and the disturbance of his mind; she was neither kind nor careful when she tore her way inside.

You have every right, he thinks, but Ben has lost his taste for it. He looks at the pitiful figure of his brother. I know he is the one who has harmed you the most.

"Perhaps not the most," Rey says quietly. Ben wills her to face him and, without pause or fear, she does. "You lied to me," she tells him.

Yes.

"About Alec. About who I am." Anger flashes across her face sharp and bright as lightning. "Say it, Ben. I want to hear it."

"I lied to you." He recalls a certain species of spider that would kill her mate after breeding. Will you treat me just as them? What do you want? Tell me and I will give it to you.

"You said you'd never leave me. That was a lie as well."

He closes his eyes and touches his head to hers. "I was wrong," he whispers. But do not doubt my love. "I did not know how to love in a better way." The stupidest and most profound of excuses.

Rey bristles with hardness, resisting his words. Ben can feel Alec straining to say something as well, to reach her across the bond that once tied them together. Impatient, she snaps the vines shut, binding them extra tightly. He looks up in time to see a flurry of struggle and then Alec's body goes still. With the aid of the Force, Ben makes sure he is still breathing at least.

"You would save him?" she says. He can feel her rage pulsing freely now. "I thought that he is mine to kill."

Ben straightens to his full height. "Do you think it would come easy? That it would heal the wound?" It splits the spirit; he knows. And Rey knows it too. Still her anger remains, the leaves of a nearby tree bleeding from green to red in the space of a heartbeat.

"I will not be caged! You cannot tell me—"

I would never—

"You didn't tell me anything!" Her voice is filled with so much pain. "All that time I was Kira, you let me believe—"

"I didn't know what it would do to you!" he snaps, his patience at an end. "Would you risk me harming your broken mind? Or have you realize fully and put you in danger? So that Alec could erase you all over again?"

"It was for me to decide!"

"I…"

She grabs his hand. "You lied to me and then with me and we made this." She presses it to her stomach with both her own. "How can it be? How can a child exist that is only made from lies?"

It is as if every rib has been broken. "Do you believe that?" he says with labored breathing.

"Tell me the truth. Please."

"Rey." He feels their child flicker beneath his palm and he knows his mistake. "It was a selfish love."

"It was more than selfish, wouldn't you say?"

This voice. Ben knows but does not recognize it. A corporeal figure of glowing blue yet somehow more tangible than a ghost saunters out of the trees. Ben sees and hears it. Not a spirit of the dead that his powers can hold. Something beyond death and almost living. Ancient and young. A man but more powerful than most. A Sith Lord. The oldest one. The one of legend.

Bane.

Ben pulls Rey against him, lifting his right arm to call for his saber where it hides amongst the ruins. It spins into his palm and he has it ignited the same second. She does not resist as he moves to stand before her and aims his red blade at the ghost in front.

Bane laughs. "We meet at last, abominable one. And you do not disappoint. Rey, you really should have woken him much sooner."

Ben hesitates at those words, a chill falling over him. The chill turns to winter when Rey steps out from behind him, her eyes on Bane.

"This is a private matter," she says.

Undaunted by Ben's saber, Bane walks forward. "It was not my intent to eavesdrop. Although," he glances knowingly to the recently grown forest of saplings, "you were getting rather loud."

"What do you want?" Ben says.

"It's impressive," the Sith Lord continues, unperturbed. "No, truly it is. Life and Death bonded together. And a new life made. A new type of Force-user the universe has yet to witness. But," he looks to Rey. "What of you, my dearest? Did you choose this?"

"I…" the bewilderment on her face almost rends Ben's heart out his broken chest. "I don't know."

Bane nods sagely. He turns back to Ben. "Don't you see, young Skywalker? Solo? Whatever you are. It's not about what I want or what you want. The Dark side it too decisive, I suppose. Shall we let the Light make its choice? Rey," he says gently, "don't you want to know?"

"Know what?" they say in unison, Ben's tone acidic, Rey's voice desperately curious. It is this that unnerves Ben the most.

He's a Sith, Ben talks through their bond. You cannot trust him.

I can't trust you, she says with debilitating calmness. (Ben's heart is now in pieces.) And he has never lied to me.

"Nor will I now," Bane says, and they both startle. "Yes, I'm afraid I can hear your lovely chatter. An unfortunate side effect of all those millennia amassing power. My apologies."

"I don't care!" Rey says. "Stop babbling and tell me what I should know."

"Did I not promise I would free you from your cage? But to be free, you must first understand how far the bars extend."

"But I know that already," Rey says. She takes another step closer, so innocent and trusting, and Ben wants to stab his saber through his body but there nothing left inside. "Ben lied to me and Alec took me. All these fucking men who would control me—none of them trusted me to govern myself."

Bane meets her where she stands and takes her hands in his. If the ghost had blood, Ben would drink it; as it is, he wants to burn this planet to the ground. Bane senses these thoughts and gives a passing smile in his direction, before his eyes lock back onto Rey.

"My darling," he says softly, the way a lover would. "It is so much worse than you know."

"Show me," Rey breathes.

Ben makes to charge forward, but a flick of Rey's wrist has vines tangling about his ankles; Bane gestures minutely and his saber is pulled from his hand.

"I would see this," Rey tell him. Her eyes are no longer angry; just solemn and intent. Ben cannot deny her, no matter the cost. Even as the plants die where they touch him, and he breaks from Bane's hold. He will not deny her this.

"Please, just keep yourself safe," he begs. "That is all I ask."

"Don't worry," Bane says soothingly. "We won't leave you out for it involves you too." He looks more human now than ever; Rey's hands clasped in his, Ben can see a flesh-like color returning to his skin. "Are you ready, dearest?"

Rey nods once. Ben sees the Sith Lord smile. Then all around them shifts as if the air is gone and the floor is no more.

They are falling. They are going nowhere. They are lost inside a dream.

Her mother's hands are dry and wrinkled. They look much older than her twenty-two years.

You spoil her, Nasra.

Her hands are old but they are skilled and kind. A washerwoman from Naboo, she walks six miles from their village to her mistress' home. Sometimes she sews and there are hard callouses on the edges of her fingers. Rey can feel them as she washes her hair, prying every tangle out but never pulling too hard. She likes to leave it to dry in three small buns tied up with scraps of twine.

At the start there is a village. A humble hut set by a lake where her father fishes and her mother washes and Rey bathes and mostly plays.

Before there was a dream.

Nasra's cousin had left for Theed several years ago and sent back tales of a beautiful palace where the Queen and all her handmaidens lived. These are the stories Rey grows up with. I will take you there and show you everything. The lakes are as big as an ocean filled with fish that could swallow you whole. Daddy's nets would be so full.

Daddy used to fish all over. Rey has never seen the ocean but she loves the water. He tells her of whole planets that are blue with barely a rock to stand on. I will show you one day.

Mommy and Daddy are full of promises. They talk of dreams as much as Rey has them. For dreams are the best thing, as much as mud between your toes or potted yobshrimp for dinner or the time she saw a Gungan up close.

But Mommy is not well many days and Daddy's nets are rarely full and sometimes Rey's bowl is empty or her three buns fall out because she doesn't know how to tie the twine like Mommy does. Those days Daddy yells the most.

Rey only knows the village until one day they leave.

I'll show you the ocean, Shrimp. All that sea air and endless blue. We'll live on an island that's all our own.

The sea is made of sand and the islands are all metal. Mommy tells her that this is their home now and it is a desert. A special planet called Jakku.

There are no fish in sand, Rey discovers. Mommy cleans old parts that Daddy brings home until her hands are bloody. There is no water to bathe or even play in. Rey makes up new games. She thinks of all the green in the village hard enough that it starts to form in their home.

It's not natural.

What is 'natural'? Rey thinks. Mommy grows too weak to clean the parts so Rey learns and Daddy sits beneath the stars and drinks a brown liquid that isn't water. There are no more yobshrimp dinners but food called 'portions' and more often than not there is no food at all.

Mommy starts to like the brown liquid too. Rey hears them both yelling as she lies in the metal crate that they made into her bed. There is yelling and crashing and soft sounds and nothing more. In several months there is a change in her mother. Her tummy swells though her arms and legs are thin. It's a baby, Mommy says and takes Rey's hand to place on the bump until Daddy pulls it away.

One day the bump is gone and there is a baby, pink and loud, screams echoing off the metal walls. He is better than yobshrimp or a Gundam or all the water in the universe.

His name is Lupine and Rey loves him and it makes her garden grow.

They sleep in Rey's magic forest that forms around her crate. Lupine always laughs and coos at Rey's games. Even the work games are fun when they are together.

Mommy cannot move now and Daddy comes and goes and there is more brown liquid and a special leaf that Mommy smokes. She lies with eyes wide open but hardly speaking. No one tells Rey their stories. There are no more dreams they have to share.

At night curled up with Lupine, Rey can still hear them talk.

Is she mine? She hardly looks like me. Her eyes are weird.

Her eyes are yours.

She isn't natural.

No one will tell her what 'natural' is. If it means to grow green plants in a desert or for her baby brother to get sick. His body is changing. There are lumps beneath his skin, around his neck and face and under his arms and where his legs merge with his hips. An old lady comes and takes one look at him and one look at Rey and says:

"This child is cursed."

Lupine or me? What is 'cursed'? Is it like 'natural'?

But Lupine grows more sick. He grows more lumps. Then he stops growing. Rey hears her mother scream. She feels her father's fist. She's thrown out of her garden and left on her own to play in a dark room. Lupine never sees her. She does not know where he is and when she cries out his name Daddy gets mad and Mommy gets paler and they lock her in with only odd scraps of food and water.

Rey lives in the dark. There are no dreams. No small chubby hands or wrinkled ones or large ones. No more hands to touch her. When the light comes again, Daddy drags her out and she clings, she is so happy.

They all go on another journey. Maybe she'll see the ocean now.

Sixteen credits.

But she's worth twice more.

The big gelatinous man sneers so hard that he wobbles. I know what she is.

Daddy agrees. Mommy cries. She ties Rey's hair up one last time with her dry wrinkled hands. Then they are leaving.

No!

A ship flies away.

Come back!

The big man pulls on her arm. Quiet, girl! You're my problem now.

Rey lands on all fours in her Moraband garden, gasping for breath. Ben is at her side in a moment, arm holding her to him; she can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest.

"You fucking monster," he snarls. "I will silence your lies."

Bane steps back and surveys them both. "You will silence nothing. Alec told me how you bested Plagueis; I will not be so fool as to try and possess you." He looks to Rey and her eyes are drawn to the ghost's. "But I do not lie."

Every molecule in her body feels unstable, hinging on a point between anticipation and despair. "But I didn't remember—I don't. If I couldn't remember then how could you?"

Bane's face becomes solemn. "Because I took your memories. That first time. When Alec brought you and begged me to wipe your mind clean. These were buried deepest of all; you kept them in a rusted tin like a child's forgotten keepsake." Regret creases his brow. "It took weeks to break inside."

Tears flow like water but she is not ready to feel the fullness of this, not yet. Ben won't let her go; he is crying as well, his mind whispering promises and comforts, but she pushes them away. There is more that Bane is keeping and she must have everything.

"What of my brother?" she asks. "The baby. What happened to him?"

"He died at fifteen months," Bane says. "His body was eaten with tumors."

"Did I…?" she can't finish the sentence.

"No," Ben says.

"Yes," Bane answers. "You did. You were too young and your gift was uncontrolled."

"But I loved him!" She is breaking open inside. She can see him now, freed in her mind's eye. Lupine. Lupa, she called him. My baby. My love. My only good thing. She shuts her eyes and sees his deformed little body, lying still in death.

"It was the nature of your power, dear girl. You are life. Life without restraint is destructive. It is…"

Deadly, she thinks. Ben pulls her tighter. No.

"Yes," Bane says. "Precious Lupa died and still your parents did not understand. They thought you a demon and sold you. They tried to escape that wretched planet but only made it one settlement over before they both succumbed to drink. Good riddance too."

"But they were my parents!" Rey cries. How could she? What is she? "And I killed them. Or as good as. My baby brother. They should have sold me sooner, they—"

Ben shushes her and holds her as if his strength alone could keep her together but it is too late; she is already breaking. "You should have spared her this," Ben says to Bane, his voice low and deadly. "What good is it now? She should never have known."

"That would be your answer, wouldn't it? But she had to see. Because there is something else. The reason why."

"Why?" Rey croaks. "What do you mean why?" She can't see anything but Lupa's face. There is no reason. The Force is cruel and it is vindictive and it has taken everything from her.

"But there is a reason," Bane says softly. "There is always a reason. And Ben knows it too."

"I know nothing," he says vehemently.

"Of course you do. Something Plagueis said when you were in his tomb. The moment Rey was conceived. He knew it and told you, didn't he? And I know because Alec told me. An insignificant piece of information at the time but you forget, the Force speaks to me too. I feel its currents in the galaxy, and when it makes its presence known. The date of her conception was the date of something else. A young boy on Chandrila… and an old dying nurse?"

Rey sits up. She pulls back from Ben to look at him, truly look. His face is beautifully familiar but there is something more. Something he said. The night of their wedding when he told her… he told her…

You were created for me.

The day Hosna died…

"…was the day the Force blessed you, my darling girl. Powerful Light to combat Powerful Darkness. Or, in this case, life to combat death. You were doomed from the day of conception, my child, and you are staring at the reason why. Because a bored little rich boy decided to help a dying woman die a little faster."

The pain she is fighting begins to blur around the edges and close in. Ben's image begins to blur as well, and the suffering is so deep, so intensely powerful that it is poised to grind her bones into dust. The Light is gone, replaced by something else. A maelstrom of churning life. Of pain. Tears drip down onto her hands but they are no longer made of water.

They are red with blood.