A/N: Apologies in advance if you know anything about astronomy. I don't, but I couldn't get this particular nugget out of my head, and with this being a fantasy world, it's not our sky. You'll see what I mean.

One way or another, serenity and calm were not feelings that Rey could experience in Ben Solo's company. He was simply incapable of moderation, and her mood was directly influenced by him. Soaring into the highest elevations when he seemed so attuned to her, sinking into the lowest depths when he was determined to languish in despair. His dogged insistence in viewing himself as a villain frustrated her to no end. She didn't speak of it, but she certainly argued with him in her mind. Even though she didn't say his name out loud, she repeated it to herself as often as possible when she thought about him. Which, of course, was all the time, a circumstance she found distinctly unfair, considering the past couple of days since their argument were utterly tense and uncomfortable.

Ben's actions as they trudged along the trails were unchanged, and they made good time, but there was no possibility of drawing him out again. He spoke only when absolutely necessary, and the only time he came near her again was when he changed the wrappings on her arm. He had retreated within himself, and she hated the feeling of loneliness and despair that prevailed in quiet moments.

When a late snowstorm trapped them for a day, the silence was oppressive, and Rey was sure she couldn't bear it much longer. Their food supply was running low, as well, which only served to sour her mood. Ben was probably just as aware of the deficiency, but offered no discussion on the matter, even as necessary as it was. Rey's temper was stretched thin, and if he continued to do his level-best to ignore her, she just might lash out.

Once they were on the move again, they were hampered by the thick snowcover, and were forced to move lower into the valley to keep up a decent pace. Ben shot a bird or two along the way, but how he intended for them to cook the meat without finding dry wood for a fire, she had no idea. Rey was ready to scream that mid-afternoon, when, thankfully, she caught a row of distant buildings in her line of sight. Ben saw them, too, and immediately changed course to avoid them.

This was the last straw for Rey's empty stomach and barely existent patience. "Oh, no," she said without preamble. "No, we are not going to keep punishing ourselves. We're going there."

"We need to find shelter," he argued back, his expression set. "We can't take lodgings in a public place."

"And I'm not suggesting we do," she replied through gritted teeth. "But we need food, more than what we've got. You know that."

He shook his head. "Shelter first, then we'll worry about food."

"No!" she exclaimed, grabbing hold of his sleeve so he couldn't turn away. "Food first. I can't go on much longer on the little we've got. You said yourself we'd have to restock along the way. Well, now we have to restock."

Ben exhaled stubbornly. "I'm not leaving you alone here."

"I wasn't planning on staying here by myself," Rey replied snidely.

"You shouldn't be seen."

"That's a change of tune from your cocky attitude at Luke's house," she said with a challenging lift of her brow.

"Well, circumstances change," he responded firmly.

He was being completely unreasonable, and Rey wasn't having it. "Yes, but the fact that we need food doesn't change. We'll both go," she ordered decisively.

They stood there, both staring the other down in a silent battle of wills. But Ben relented first. "Fine," he huffed with a childish scowl.

Then he stalked away, Rey close at his heels. She couldn't even enjoy winning the argument; his angry moping threw a wet blanket over everything. Besides, she was so hungry, she couldn't concentrate on much more than getting something in her stomach.

The buildings she had seen were the outskirts of a sizable town, which was a relief. If it had been a small village, they may not have had much luck in finding supplies. And once they were on the criss-crossing roads of the town, it wasn't too difficult to find their way to the market center, though who was leading whom was another battle they fought without words.

Rey didn't miss the questioning looks on the faces of people they passed, the more numerous the closer they got to the market square. She saw mouths begin to shape greetings, then clamp shut when the strangers got a good look at the threatening expression on Ben's face. Rey huffed a little, pressing her lips into a thin line, and the moment the streets opened up into the square, stalls and shops lining the cobble-stone edges, she stepped directly in his way, making him nearly stumble into her.

"You'd be a little less conspicuous if you at least appeared to be a friendly person," Rey observed, her hands on her hips.

His face showed no sign of changing. "I haven't the gift of pretending," he muttered quietly.

"Then maybe you'd better keep your distance so the people don't see your scowl up close," Rey suggested, her eyes narrowed at him. She held out her hand. "I'll handle the transactions. I can actually do more than glower."

"I don't glower," he argued, immediately proving himself wrong.

"Oh, yes, you do," she asserted. "And you know it. And what's more, you're proud of it because it scares people away. But in this instance, it's just going to draw attention. So let me manage the supplies."

His mouth worked in every direction as he met her gaze, then shook his head. Now she could enjoy a little triumph as he dropped the money sack into her outstretched hand. "Don't expect me to keep my distance," he warned.

"Oh, no," Rey exaggerated her distress, "I would never expect that of you." She spun on her heel and began taking stock of the wares offered.

The past two nights had been bitterly cold, and she was tempted by the fur-lined cloaks displayed in a shop window, but she reminded herself that winter was drawing to a close, despite the freak storm the day before, and clothing wasn't on the list. She made various purchases, all with Ben shadowing her every move. And although she resisted the furs, there was no denying the way her mouth salivated at the delicious smells emanating from a small bakery, a popular establishment by the looks of it.

The woman running the shop was a portly, red-cheeked sort, who gave a bright, though weary, smile to Rey when she stepped inside.

"Not much left, I'm afraid, dearie," she began. "A bit late in the day for the savories. But there're still biscuits and a couple of barley loaves left if you don't mind the more simple fare."

Rey returned the smile. It was getting nearer to dinner, and the shops must be closing up soon. "This is plenty for me to choose from, thank you," she returned politely. She made her choices quickly, hoping Ben lingering in the doorway wasn't too much of a distraction for the baker.

It didn't seem to be, as the woman wrapped up the loaves she picked and handed them over. But she didn't leave him unmentioned. "Your young man isn't a trusting sort, is he - hanging on behind you at every turn?" she asked, her voice lowered conspiratorially.

Rey turned her head to look at him, wondering if he heard. His eyes were fixed on the square outside and he gave no indication that he was listening. Turning back to the woman, she decided not to bother contradicting the assumption she had made. "He's . . . protective."

"Ah," the woman replied with a shrewd nod of her head. "That's to be expected, in such times. Winter's dying down, and recruitment will be picking back up again, even in these parts."

Rey couldn't pretend not to know what the woman meant. It would have been suspicious to do so, anyway. "Has there been any change lately, any word?" She tried to do her best to appear concerned and interested in the way any average citizen would.

"Not much, although what has trickled through about Naboo hasn't been pleasant, has it? Hard to know what to think, what with that missing princess and war on the horizon," the woman responded sadly.

"It isn't easy to fight in another country's war," Rey suggested softly.

"No. I feel for them, I do. And I understand the queen's decision. Most do. But . . ." she didn't finish her thought. She didn't need to for Rey to understand the complicated feelings she must have. If only she could offer her some assurance that the princess she referred to was doing everything within her power to protect them. All she could do was hand over the coin and ask where she could find a hot meal. The baker gave her the direction to a tavern in the next street, and she made her goodbyes.

Ben didn't share her enthusiasm for a decent bite. "We need to find a place to shelter," he reminded her in a murmur.

"Food first," Rey repeated, walking past him with her head held high. "I've waited long enough for it."

He halted in his tracks. "Stubborn, aren't you?" he questioned, and she couldn't quite tell if he said it in frustration or admiration. She turned back to face him.

"And you're not?" she rejoined pointedly.

"No. I'm obstinate," he replied with the hint of a smirk.

"And there's a difference?"

"A vast difference."

"And that is . . ." she left her comment open for him to finish.

He paused. "One is what I am, and the other is what you are."

"Illuminating," she remarked shortly. "Come on."

The smells and warmth of the tavern were not as cheerful or friendly as the bakery had been, but they were no less welcome. Ben found a table in the darkest corner, naturally, while Rey ordered food, and before long, she was enjoying her first good meal in a week, a hot stew all the more satisfying considering her former freezing state.

Ben hunched over his bowl, and as Rey's spirits improved as her belly filled, her ire with him dissipated. Isolated as they were, it was easy to forget the purpose of their journey in daily troubles. Their personal squabble wasn't insignificant, but Rey was reminded during her conversation with the baker that people had different experiences in general, and Ben's life specifically had been shaped in harrowing ways. She still wanted his life to be made right and for him to reconcile with his family, but his guilty feelings over his father's death were a powerful obstacle. And what more had he done that he was ashamed of? Perhaps her manner of offering support could be modified so that he wouldn't react like a wounded animal.

She could at least not pick a fight with him when he had genuine reason to be cautious in a strange town.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly.

His reaction was immediate. "What did you just say?" his head jerking up, his expression disbelieving, but with a hint of a smile that provoked her. He heard her just fine, and she wouldn't dignify his question with a repetition of her apology.

"I'll take it back," she warned with a dirty look.

"No, no," he spoke quickly, dropping his spoon and holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I heard you. What for?" She threw him another dirty look, and he replied in feigned exasperation. "What? You expect me to read your mind?"

She breathed slowly, trying not to rise to his bating. But he spoke again before she could say anything, his voice quieter with a gentleness that surprised her. "I'm sorry for getting angry at you," he murmured, averting his eyes. "For yelling. Whatever my difficulties are, they are my own, and you're not to blame for my history."

"I didn't think you spoke to me like you blamed me. I do think you spoke to me as though it was none of my business." He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Which maybe it isn't," she admitted meekly. "I stand by what I said, but I know I pushed too hard. I never meant to start an argument."

He nodded shortly. "Accepted."

She began to bite the inside of her lip, then immediately left off. She didn't want to arm him with more to tease her. "I care about your family, Ben." Instantly his eyes darkened dangerously. "I told you, I stand by what I said before," she stated stubbornly, "and I'm not ever going to call you Kylo."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever you call me, you probably shouldn't use either of my names in public," he reminded her, more annoyed than angry.

He was right, and she pushed back a blush at her lapse. "All right. Fine. Point taken." She plowed ahead, unwilling to leave this unsaid, hoping it wouldn't spark another blaze of fury. "What I was saying is that I care about your family. Your mother. Your godfather, if that's what Chewie is." He breathed out the smallest chuckle. "And your uncle. And I know they care for you and want you to come home. If I can convince you to do it, I see it as my way of repaying them for everything they've done for me."

Fortunately, he didn't react the way he had a few days earlier. Instead he looked at her steadily, his expression skeptical. "You think you can do the impossible?"

"You think I can do the impossible," she pointed out, and his brow furrowed curiously. "Look at what you talked me into, why we're traveling together in the first place," she reminded him. "If I have other goals along the way, I'm not going to be sidetracked from them, either."

That upper lip of his curled again, rueful and amused. "You're too much like Luke. Believing you can guide me on the path of redemption."

"You're too much like him, too, disputing everything I say and being a surly nuisance to boot," she replied, letting a little playfulness into her tone.

Ben didn't argue her assessment of him. "He disputed everything?" he asked with a slight smile.

"Well, he's certainly contrary, even when he agrees with me," Rey recalled fondly.

"He liked you," Ben stated decisively.

"Do you think so?"

"You don't think so?" he countered.

"No," she conceded, and she saw his features soften. "I knew he grew to care for me, and wanted what was right for me. But that didn't necessarily mean he liked me."

He shook his head swiftly. "He liked you; I could tell. He likes being around people he can argue with."

She gave him a curious look. "So does that mean he didn't always ignore you?" He immediately gave her a withering stare. "I'm not going to ask about you trying to kill each other; I've learned my lesson about prying.".

His nose wrinkled and he sat back in his chair. "It depended on the day," he said, his voice subdued. "Some days there was nothing. And others, we would debate over some inconsequential thing. Never anything relevant to why I was sent there. Safe topics. Those arguments were almost enjoyable."

Rey thought of their farewell that had been so bewildering. "Like the Shadow?" He gave her a sharp look. "Your bizarre goodbye to him. It seemed like . . ."

He nodded in remembrance. "Yes. I had to get one jab in at him after he accused me of losing my edge."

"What is it? The Shadow?"

His gaze drifted far away, a combination of melancholy and memory in his eyes. "It's Ren."

What? she wondered. That was a name she associated only with his knights.

His eyes lowered for a moment, and without even looking at her, he seemed to sense her confusion. That small smile played on his lips again. "First clear night we get, I'll show you."

That first clear night ended up being the next one. Cold winds had blown all day, which had made for less than a pleasant experience as they traversed the crunchy snow that had melted and then iced over again. A restored sense of trust and camaraderie with Ben wasn't enough to entirely distract Rey from the toils of the terrain. She lost her balance a few times and caught herself on jagged edges of frozen ground that felt like tiny knives on her skin. She was fed, but she was frigid. The effect of the winds, though, was such as to sweep the clouds away, and once they had found a place to camp for the night, Ben led her to a higher ridge where the starlit sky opened up to view.

She sat reluctantly with a shiver, drawing her cloak around her tightly. The winds had died down, but sundown was far past. Whatever Ben had to say, it had better be worth delaying the warmth of a fire.

He sat beside her, his head tilted upward, studying the sky above. She copied his movements, trying to pinpoint where exactly his gaze was directed. Not very possible in the dark. It wasn't long before he pointed upward, leaning in toward her so that she could follow the line of his arm to where he wished her to look.

"Do you see the curve of stars there?" It took a few moments, but she did see a dotting of stars that, if joined by a line, would make a modest curve. What did stargazing have to do with anything?

"And a horizontal line that meets it at the lower end?" he continued. She did. He'd better get to the point soon. "They're the edges of a cloak," he stated.

Was she supposed to comment on that? "Oh," she said dully.

She could almost see his familiar smirk. "Generations ago, there was a star that was in the middle of that cluster there," he pointed to a circle of stars just beside the curved line he had shown her. "Ancient astronomers named it Kira. She was the queen of stars, and that circle was her crown." There was a hint of wonder in his voice, and it was catching. Rey could feel herself growing less annoyed and more interested.

"There was practically a religion devoted to her; myths and stories sprang up of the great and powerful queen she was, and how she ruled the night sky. Other constellations were all just a part of her story, pets and tools, consorts and enemies. Then one day, Kira was gone. Astronomers couldn't come up with an explanation for why she disappeared, but there was no sign of the star that so many revered."

"What happened to her?" Rey asked.

Ben turned his face to her. "There was no logical explanation. We can map the stars and planets, find patterns and observe their splendor, but we don't know what they really are, or how they come into being. Or how they die. Perhaps one day we will. But until then, we have the myths to explain more mundane phenomena."

"And what do the myths say?" she inquired with a small smile. The way Ben spoke of the sky was fascinating, the lilting flow of his voice a stark difference to his usual blunt manner.

"It was Cyril, the great story-teller, who first began to speak of the Shadow that had always been at Kira's back. The cloak," Ben clarified, gesturing to the line of stars he had begun with. "Oral tradition was the chief way stories were circulated then, and this one spread like wildfire. The Shadow, called Ren, who had never left Kira's side, who was the darkness to her light, had taken her into the folds of his cloak."

Rey's mouth dropped open. "Why?" she asked breathlessly. Rationally she knew it was a mere tale, but in Ben's voice it was a true mystery.

"That's the enigma of Cyril's telling. Kira, the powerful queen, was beset by many rivals who wanted to take her power, and she found herself alone with Ren. What he offered her only they knew, but the messengers of the sky saw her disappear into his darkness, hidden behind his Shadow. So she became known as the Lost Queen, or the Hidden Queen, depending on the telling.

"But because Cyril's tale, in its original form, was never written, we still don't know if Kira went willingly or if Ren took her forcibly. He could have simply been the most powerful of her enemies and was the one who ultimately succeeded in besting her."

"Or he wanted to hide her from her other enemies, and took her under his protection," Rey surmised, remembering Ben and Luke's exchange.

Dimly illuminated by moonlight, she saw him nod. "And debate has raged on ever since of Ren's motives, if he was friend or foe to the Hidden Queen. University scholars and astronomy-loving priests have sought out the earliest manuscripts of the legend to discover what Cyril intended their relationship to be. None have made conclusive arguments one way or the other, though most believe Ren's was a malevolent intent."

"But you believe he was a protector," Rey asserted.

Ben didn't move or speak, but she knew she was right. And, fascinating story aside, it gave an entirely new perspective to the name he had taken.

"Your knights?" she probed tentatively.

"I named them," he said softly. "I never viewed myself as a harbinger of light. And when I cast aside my old life, I decided I needed a fitting name. The Knights were not intended to be a force of evil, though it makes sense that we were viewed that way soon enough. What we were tasked with, as well as the general associations with the name. After all, very few now will still argue that Ren never intended harm to Kira."

Rey pondered his words, allowing herself to bite her lip in the safety of darkness. "Why do you think he hid her?"

"I think," he said slowly, "he loved her."

They sat there in peaceful quiet for a few minutes, watching the sky glitter above them. But soon enough the chill broke the spell of Ben's story, and Rey was ready to return to their designated shelter for the night and feel the fire's flame lick warmth back into her fingers. It was slow and slick coming back down, but Ben held her steady when she came close to stumbling.

The rest of the evening passed in contemplative silence, a silence not nearly as oppressive as the angry quiet that had reigned a few nights previous. Rey took her turn at building the fire, and they ate and watched the flames dance and die. And every once in a while, Rey would steal a glance at Ben, wondering what he might have been had he not been born to legends, with the fate of nations on his shoulders. Would he have cloistered away in one of the southern universities, happy to bury his shaggy head in a stack of parchment, looking for answers to the mysteries of the world? Would he have been a scoundrel-smuggler like his father, talking circles around foolish associates and wooing women with stirring myths of the stars? Would they have even met had either of them been born to an ordinary life?

If there was one thing Rey knew, she was not sorry that the circumstances of her strange life had thrown Ben into her path. She didn't want to imagine a life where she never knew him and never heard him tell the story of Kira and Ren.

"I'll take first watch tonight," he said, still watching the fire. "I'm not tired."

Rey nodded and shifted around, realizing how uncomfortable she had grown in her stationary position on the hard ground. "Thanks," she uttered quietly, and removed her belt, setting the sword and knife at her side.

She lay down with her back to the fire, and shivered again. A hint of annoyance crawled into her consciousness, as she thought to herself that this cold snap had better shove off. She squeezed her eyes shut and burrowed herself into her cloak.

A moment later, she felt the unmistakable weight of a heavy piece of cloth laid on top of her legs. With a jerk, she lifted herself up on her elbow to find Ben's hands at her shoulders, his fingers letting go of his cloak as it draped over the rest of her body. He knelt beside her, and his face was mere inches from hers. For a moment, she was frozen there, watching him look at her, his dark eyes a complex jumble it would take hours to untangle. Her free hand twitched, almost daring to touch the angular planes of his face or the loose strands of hair that fell into his eyes.

But he drew back a moment before she found the courage, and he moved around the fire without a word. Whatever she had been about to do, he wouldn't allow. Rey lowered herself back to the ground, stung and disappointed. And then she felt again the added pressure and warmth of his cloak, which lessened the sting.

Protector, indeed.