The suns kissed the tops of the trees, casting their warm glow over the entirety of the forest as the day's temperature rose to its peak. A single drop of sweat rolled down Hanna's nose as she tried to focus completely on the task her parents had given her: move the rock in a straight line then settle it on a small leaf, which was barely bigger than the rock itself. This task seemed easy, but proved quite difficult for the child because it required great restraint and honing of the Force, two things that were very foreign to Hanna.
She lost concentration when her brother, practicing the same task no more than ten feet from her, let out a happy shriek, "Yes! I did it! Did you see, Ma?"
Hanna's face settled into a scowl as their mother, Rey, smiled lovingly at Leo for his accomplishment. He had successfully moved the rock in a straight line onto the small leaf, and after only four previous attempts. She rolled her eyes, picked up her rock, and tossed it into the brush.
"Why are we doing this, Pa? I'm bored. I want to go play," she pleaded, falling back onto the forest floor with a dramatic plop.
Ben looked at his daughter, and then to Rey, with a slight smile on his lips, "A break sounds good to me. Go play with your brother while your ma and I get some food ready."
The scowl disappeared to be replaced with a wild smile, and Hanna took off, chasing Leo through the trees. Their laughter echoed merrily through the open air, bringing a breath life to a place that was all but void of it, save plants. There were plenty of plants.
Ben walked toward Rey, the smile gone, "I don't know how to do this, Rey. This is something I didn't consider, and I am no teacher."
"I know, Ben, and neither am I. We were foolish to think that this wouldn't happen, that we could just hide from it all," Rey avoided eye contact, keeping her hands busy with preparing the fruit that would make up the bulk of their meal.
Ben began pacing, an old habit that had recently started up again. He had been so weightless for so long, so happy and…at peace, finally…that he couldn't help but feel anxious and afraid now, in the face of his old demons. He and Rey had shut themselves off from the force for so long, and as it surged through his body once again he felt fear for what it could bring with it. The return of Kylo Ren? He hoped he was strong enough to prevent that. But he didn't know…
Rey looked at him, finally, and let out a sigh, "I know that you're scared. So am I. We came here to protect them, to shield them, from the wars and the Jedi and the Order. From all of the pain. I even started to think that we had…but their power is strong, and their pull to the Force is just something we couldn't stop."
Ben stared long and hard at his wife's face before responding, trying to sense where her emotions were and coming up with nothing but worry, "They need to understand the balance, Rey. They need to know that it's ok to feel angry and sad and scared, but also how to be in control of those emotions. We can't fail them in this. They can't become the monster I was."
He looked at his hands, flooded with shame, remorse, and regret. It had been so long since he had dwelled on Kylo Ren and the things he had done. Dwelling was dangerous. Watching his children grow and laugh and live without pain made his burdens easier to bear, and to (almost) forget.
The twins were now 5, and it was obvious to both Ben and Rey that the Force was strong in both of them. It took longer than it should have for them to notice, since they had turned themselves off to the Force six years ago, but the signs had become too obvious to ignore.
"Kylo Ren is dead, Ben. You killed him and all of his darkness when you chose to save me," Rey's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "We just have to teach them everything we can and hope that things turn out ok."
Ben scoffed, but smiled, "You and your hope."
He sat there, uneasy, because he knew that she was at least partially wrong. Kylo Ren was dead, that was true, but there would always be the tug of the dark side, the slight nudge to give in once again, now that he had opened himself up to it. He had never been just light or just dark, and he had never fully found the secret to the balance between the two. He doubted his wife had either.