There is a whole galaxy of possibility in front of them, a world of opportunity which has just opened up and is waiting for them to seize it. 'Let's start by getting out of here,' she says, for want of any better ideas. 'The lifts are over there.'

It is clear from the press of people waiting outside the courtroom that no one else on Coruscant has anything better to do today than hang around and watch the trial, and there is quite a stir as the two of them attempt to pass through the hall. All eyes are on Ben and after a brief look round he pins his gaze to a point somewhere over the heads of the crowd in an attempt to avoid the attention and as she watches he goes into full Supreme Leader mode. His face develops the look of a man with a purpose too important to be disturbed and he strides off across the floor in the direction of the turbolifts.

Two things are immediately apparent. Firstly, his legs are very long and Rey cannot keep up with his strides, and secondly, he has no idea how to walk with someone, as opposed in front of them. She tries to lengthen her steps but fails, and falls into an uncomfortable half trot, and then abandons that as well, ending up trailing after him like a member of his retinue. But she is his equal, not his subordinate, and she has no intention of spending the rest of her days following him around. She makes an effort to catch up and then grabs his hand and drops her speed to a more comfortable pace. There is resistance from him at first, he doesn't look her way and he tries to surge ahead again but she refuses to speed up and eventually he gets the message and checks his stride. Marriages are made of such small compromises, she thinks.

She makes a casual gesture, which opens up a path wide enough for two in the crowd and they sweep along majestically through the herds of onlookers. Rey is beginning to enjoy herself. After a while, he squeezes her hand. Their progress comes to an abrupt halt before the entrance to the bank of turbolifts though, where a winding snake of people stands in line, waiting for their turn. Rey joins the back of the queue, although Ben attempts to press forward for a second before he realises she has stopped.

'They aren't getting out of my way,' he notes, and the heavyset Gran in front of him turns and gives him a stare from all three eyes.

'This is a queue,' Rey explains patiently. 'It's how people wait for what they want.'

'I mean, they aren't afraid of me. Everyone is usually afraid of me.' He gets another triply serious look for this comment, which is easily loud enough to be overheard.

She shrugs. 'I don't think they like you very much, but I doubt anyone is afraid of you. The whole galaxy thinks you're a clone.'

He drops her hand as he considers this, his brow furrowing in thought. She isn't completely sure she knows this expression. He isn't familiar enough to her yet for her to predict how he will react in any given situation, how he will look or what he will do when she says or does a certain thing. He isn't like his clone. There is something more below the surface. The Force bond helps, it hums away in the background reassuring her that all is well because they are together, but it isn't a terribly good indicator of his thoughts, and she finds that she is interested in what he is thinking. She wants to know what his opinions are, what's on his mind.

'Does that mean I'm free?' he asks, and there is something so incredibly vulnerable in his eyes that she feels embarrassed to have seen it for a second. The contrast in him takes her breath away, he is stronger than anyone she knows, but at times he is so sensitive she wants to blanket him in her arms and protect him from the world.

She looks away for a minute. She knows he isn't really asking about incarceration, the question has a much wider range, but there are limits to how much she can help him with this. He will never be free of his past, it will continue to haunt him long after everyone else's memories have faded and this is something he will need to come to terms with himself. She chooses an easy answer instead. 'I wouldn't say you're free. Not yet. You're under house arrest for a year remember, and Poe is going to keep an eye on you.'

Ben gives a snort of disdain. 'As if that's a threat.' His face flattens out for a second, and then the people around them move in unison, standing aside and leaving the path to the lift doors empty. 'I don't queue,' he says.

'I don't think you're going to like being poor,' Rey comments, following him into the lift as he slaps a button for the top floor.

'No one likes being poor.' He stands in the corner and folds his arms as the doors close. 'Now we're alone, tell me what's really been happening since I died.'

She leans against the opposite wall. She remembers the last time they were in a lift together, her and the real Ben, and she wonders if he does too. 'Not long after you disappeared a man was found wandering naked around the corridors of Exegol, he had your face, and he could use the Force so Poe thought he was you and tried to kill him. I also thought he was you, but with amnesia, so I broke him out of prison and we hid in the jungle while I trained him. We had to escape from Ajan Kloss so we got jobs on a cargo freighter and then we were cornered by the Resistance, so he pretended to be Kylo Ren, called the First Order to rescue us and they came and picked us up.'

'You joined the First Order?'

'Sort of. Then when we left, he went back to Exegol where he found out he was a clone and we were captured by the Resistance. He was put on trial as Kylo Ren and during the trial someone tried to kill him - when I healed him you came back instead. I think you've been inside me all this time.' She swallows. Her legs feel weak and her palms are sweaty.

He doesn't seem to notice. 'You joined the First Order? Did you rule? What decisions did you make? Did you enjoy it?'

She shakes her head. This is straying into ground she doesn't want to cover. 'I didn't rule.'

'No? Then what did you do?'

She mumbles something.

'A consort – ' he muses. 'That's almost the same as a concubine. Or a partner. Or a spouse.' His eyes widen. 'You joined the First Order and pretended to be my wife?' There is a short pause as he comes to the inevitable conclusion but he clamps his lips together on a follow up question and simply raises his eyebrows.

'I thought he was you.' She crosses her arms over her chest defensively.

'I don't know whether to be flattered or jealous.' He steps forward and the link between them glows with an immense outpouring of warmth; he isn't annoyed, despite the serious look on his face. Again she has the impression that he is enjoying himself, but she doesn't get another of his rare and beautiful smiles. He takes another step, and the heat she feels through the Force transmutes into a more physical reaction. His eyes seem to darken, locking on to hers with an attention so focused it seems he has forgotten how to blink. He is right up close to her now, although they are not touching and the height difference means she has to tilt her chin to keep the stare intact. 'Definitely jealous,' he says in a voice which is a low purr and comes rumbling out of the depths of his chest.

She is sure he is remembering the last time they were together in a lift, back when she thought a few words from her would be enough to turn him to the light. She would like to be in that moment too, but he is so close she can see the stubble where he hasn't shaved properly, hear the steady rasp of his breathing and smell the complex scent he has when they are near enough to touch. The last time they were this close she kissed him and then he died, and that is what she sees now. The smile on his face and then the sudden cold as it dropped, the weight of him falling back in her arms and the utter desolation when she knew she was alone. It is the day she loved and lost and was abandoned that she remembers, and not that charged encounter before she met Snoke when the longer they stayed in that lift the more she thought he might kiss her.

Her legs are shaking. Her nails bite into the palms of her hands as she tries to stay upright. The sharp detail of his features blurs as she watches and then he moves, his arms coming up to pull her into a hard hug, her cheek creasing against his tunic, his chin resting on the top of her head. He holds her as she cries, and the bond wraps her up and keeps her close.

After a while he murmurs, 'I had no choice. Saving you was more important than anything else.'

'It wasn't,' she snuffles. 'I didn't ask you to die for me.'

'You weren't in a position to ask me for anything. That was the whole point. I'd do it again if I had to.'

She clings to him, in a way that she doesn't remember doing to another living soul, and as she stands there locked in his embrace, held and comforted and understood by the only person in the wide and populous galaxy with whom she truly connects, something inside her changes. A wound she has carried deep inside begins to heal. Behind him, the doors of the lift hiss open and she takes a moment to wipe away the tears. He pauses on the threshold and this time stands there waiting for her with his hand outstretched, expecting her to take it. He has always expected her to take his hand. This time, she does. They emerge onto the top floor of the court building and Ben squints in what passes for sunshine as he glances round.

'Coruscant,' he says, the distaste evident. 'Location – Core Worlds. Atmosphere – breathable. Points of interest – Monument Plaza, Federal District, Uscru Entertainment District, Bureau of Ships and Services Heritage Museum.'

'What did you say?' Rey pulls up so fast he loses his grip on her hand.

'I said I hate this place.'

'You didn't, you said something about a museum.'

'There are lots of museums. I can't remember them all. I'm sure there will be plenty of time for us to visit every single one over the next year.' He pulls a face and strides off in the direction of the airspeeder rank leaving her reeling in his wake.

It has to be a co-incidence, surely. Other people must be able to describe points of interest and key facts about the planets they visit, it has to be a co-incidence that Ben has just recited an encyclopaedia entry in exactly the same way as his clone used to. She tests the bond nervously, but it leaps at her touch and he glances round with an impatient beckoning motion.

'What are you planning to do for the next year then, if you don't want to visit museums?' She keeps her thoughts to herself, it will be a strange quirk of speech, that's all.

He uses the Force to finagle his way to the front of the queue again and there is an awkward dance as both of them head for the pilot's seat in the first speeder off the rank, but she lets him have it and settles into the passenger chair, setting the co-ordinates for her apartment which is towards the outskirts of the civic centre, an hour or so away. She watches him carefully, but there are no pre-flight checks, no adherence to the manual, he takes off smoothly, his hands moving across the controls automatically. There is relatively little to do once they are aloft, since traffic on Coruscant is heavily regulated and the ship can almost fly itself. He reaches over to the navcomp, examines the course she has set for a moment, and then overrides it without a word. The ship turns obediently into a new lane.

'What do you think I should do?' He makes a show of running through diagnostics although she suspects this is simply displacement activity to camouflage the fact that he is trying to come up with a direction for the rest of his life.

'You could become a Jedi again, open a temple and train the next generation?' She frames it as a question because she is fairly sure this idea will not be attractive to him, although it is something that has occurred to her as a career option.

'I will not make the same mistakes my uncle made.'

'You aren't planning on reviving the Sith?'

There is a vehement shake of his head. 'Palpatine said he was every voice I had ever heard inside my head. No more voices. I don't want anyone telling me what to do.'

'Except for me, of course.'

He gives her a sideways look. 'Of course.'

'You could join the Republic and help them start a new government, they seem to be struggling.'

'I will not make my mother's mistakes, either.'

'Well, I happen to know that the First Order has nearly forty Star Destroyers, plenty of troops and control of quite a few territories. You know them better than anyone, I'm sure your help would be useful in bringing them down.'

He prods at a few more buttons. 'I wouldn't need anyone's help to bring them down. Except yours, of course.'

'Of course,' she says. 'I'll help you.'

'Will it be more help than you gave me last time? Because last time you said you'd help me I ended up having to rescue you, and then you ran off and I didn't see you for months.'

She pulls a face. He has definitely been thinking about the last turbolift. 'We'll be a team,' she says. 'You and I, facing down the First Order, the last two Skywalkers taking on the failed army of a petty tyrant.'

'You are aware that this speeder is fitted with an ejector seat?'

Her hand flashes out and settles on his leg. 'You're not getting rid of me that easily.'

He swivels his attention away from the lanes of heavy traffic. 'I never wanted to get rid of you.' He isn't teasing any more, his tone is quite serious. 'I only ever wanted you to stay.'

It is a large leg, and the muscles in it are solid beneath her fingers as they lie spread against the black. She doesn't just want to kiss him, she wants to devour him, she wants to take everything he has and make it hers, she wants to hold him so tightly he won't ever escape. It is savage, this feeling, savage and beautiful at the same time and it rips through her and leaves her gasping. But it is nothing compared to the hunger with which he is regarding her.

She is dimly aware that outside the window the nose of their craft is dipping, its altitude beginning to fail but despite this, it is a few moments before she can bring herself to look away.

She calls up the co-ordinates on the navcomp. 'Where are we going anyway? My apartment is in the other direction.'

He takes a deep breath. 'Your friend Dameron put me under house arrest. He didn't say which house.'

The speeder commences its landing sequence and the view beyond the windows is blocked out by an enormous tower, fingers of glittering red stone pushed together into an edifice which is pierced by thousands of windows and stretches further into the sky than any other she has seen. The speeder heads for one of the upper floors and then lands on a private dock large enough for a significantly bigger ship although nothing else stands there. Ben jumps out of the shuttle and Rey follows more slowly, shouldering her pack and taking in the faint orchestral music which has been triggered by their landing, the spotlights which now mark out a path to the front door, the control panel which whines, and then flips down with a sudden jerk, as if it has not been used in some time.

Ben doesn't access it immediately. He stands and stares at it for a minute but she doesn't hurry him because she thinks she knows where they are.

'This apartment belonged to my mother,' he says after a while. 'I'm not sure if my biometrics will still work the door. If she thought I wasn't coming back she'll have changed the locks.'

Rey says nothing. After quite a long time, Ben runs a hand through his hair, then raises a finger to the panel and from her position behind him, Rey can see that it is shaking. The door releases and the light flashes green immediately. Ben bows his head and makes no move to go inside.

'She never gave up on you,' Rey says softly, his distress obvious even without the bond. 'And she was right not to, wasn't she?' From his perspective, this loss is fresh, its sting undiminished. Grief is another area in which the help she can offer has limits. She can support him, but he needs to work through the process on his own.

He swallows and when he answers his voice is thick. 'Too late.'

She puts a hand on his back, and leaves it there to remind him that she is there for him, and she is also there because of him, because he saved her. 'No. You weren't too late.'

She leaves him outside and steps across the threshold, giving him some space while she explores. There is a lot to explore. The hall she enters is bigger than the whole apartment she has been allocated, and it leads into a spacious lounge area, scattered with various sofas and armchairs clustered around a central holographic fireplace. The furniture shows little sign of use, and the way it is positioned seems designed for impact, rather than comfort. This room has several exits, one of which leads to a dining room so large Rey thinks it may be better described as a banqueting suite, the long table holding too many chairs to count, although the room is no longer as impressive as it once was - a thin layer of dust blankets everything. Tracking back into the lounge Rey opens another door, finding a network of smaller rooms behind, some of which appear to be more private meeting venues, while others may be offices and one is a library. It is through this room that she gains access to the family quarters behind.

Here, the emphasis is completely different. The rooms are much smaller, and there is no grand furniture, instead cushions and throws soften every available surface in the living room, the sofas are squashy and closer together, clustering around a thick pile rug on the floor. There is a single holo on the bureau in the corner, a family group shot in which a man and a woman with their arms around each other smile out at the viewer, and at their feet stands a serious, dark haired child. She doesn't touch the picture and retreats immediately, knowing that she is intruding somewhere she doesn't belong.

There is a kitchen next door, fully equipped for both hydrating and replicating food, as well as actual cooking and a table is placed at one end for communal dining. Someone has marked the table in scrawls of what looks like paint. Down a corridor are further doorways which she enters at random. The first is a large bedroom but Rey gets no further than two steps inside before she spots the dressing table with its load of neatly ordered cosmetics and she leaves as quickly as she came. The room next door is no better, with its single bed, empty storage cabinets in bright, primary colours and the rug in the shape of an X Wing on the floor.

The final room she tries is suitably anonymous, and it is the only place that does not seem to be either designed for grand entertaining, or haunted by the memory of the family which used to visit. There is a bed made with sheets that are clean, if a little dusty, a few storage cabinets and a small fresher through a door at the far end, and that is all she needs. She tips out her pack and prepares to settle in.

It is only then she realises that they have not discussed this. She is assuming that she is welcome here, and that he wants her to live with him, but this is not a conversation that they have actually had out loud. She has told him she loves him, and he has asked her to marry him, and promised to die for her again should the need arise, but there has not been time for more domestic concerns.

'This isn't a very good repair,' he says. 'I think you'd be better off starting again with a new casing.'

She glances over to where he has picked up Luke's lightsaber and is examining it critically. His eyes are still slightly puffy and the end of his nose is red but she doesn't mention it. 'That's what went wrong for me when we fought on the Death Star,' she replies. 'The saber wasn't working properly.'

'Nothing went wrong for you when we fought on the Death Star. Except that you lost and then you cheated.' He puts the first saber down and hovers his hand above the other, bringing his abilities to bear. 'And this belonged to my mother. I knew she'd made one but I didn't know what had happened to it.' He picks it up with a touch that Rey thinks is probably reverential and turns it over gently in his hands.

'It's yours,' she says. 'They both belong to you. It's about time I made myself a new one.'

He points to the mended weapon that he was once so very keen to own. 'This one belonged to my grandfather, you can keep it. But this one,' his long fingers stroke the grooves on the handle. 'This one I'd like to have, if you don't mind.'

She shrugs, 'Anything.'

He moves on to the next stack of items she has dumped on top of the storage cabinet and opens the top book, flicking the pages at random. 'These are the original Jedi texts, aren't they? Do you mind if I read them sometime?'

'Do you like books?' she asks suspiciously.

Something on the page he is perusing has caught his eye and he bends closer for a minute. 'Hmm?'

She reaches over and snaps the cover shut. 'You can read them whenever I'm not here.'

He narrows his eyes. 'How often are you planning on not being here?'

She gives him a faint smile instead of an answer. It seems that he is assuming the same thing that she is assuming – now that she is with him she is never going to leave. He steps sideways and examines the pile of folded clothing which is the next of her meagre possessions, picks up the first item and shakes it out.

'This isn't your colour, and it's a little large for you, isn't it?' He holds the dark grey tunic against his chest. 'It's almost big enough for me.'

She opens a drawer and pretends to be interested in the space inside. She has become accustomed to dressing Ben's clone, but for some reason she finds herself embarrassed at knowing the measurements of his body well enough to clothe the man himself.

'That's very thoughtful of you,' he says awkwardly, and she hears him fumble the top back into an untidy mess, and then he pounces on something at the bottom of the stack. 'But these are more my style.'

She glances over quickly, already putting out a hand to grab back what he has found but it is too late. He shakes out the stained and rumpled black garment at arm's length and the look on his face turns from admiration to sadness as he notices the hole.

'You've been carrying this around with you the whole time?' he asks in a voice which is almost unbearably tender.

She tries for a self deprecating shrug. 'I keep holding on. Can't seem to stop.'

'Rey,' he breathes, and then there are arms around her and a broad chest in her eyeline and his lips are soft against her forehead. She tilts her head back to break the contact because that isn't where she wants to be kissed.

He looks into her eyes and the warmth swelling in the Force is all affection and a kind of aching compassion that hurts him as he feels it; he knows how she has grieved for him, and he knows he is responsible, although he doesn't regret it. But this isn't what she wants from him either. She needs more. She needs to forget that she lost him and remember that he is back.

His gaze is a little too bright as he reads her face, a little too shiny and he raises a hand to brush a wisp of hair away from her cheek, so gently it feels like the wind is caressing her rather than the man she loves.

'There's so much…' he whispers, but she doesn't want to hear it. She won't let him finish.

She launches herself at him too fast to prevent, her arms winding tight about his neck, her head tilting as she pushes her mouth against his and there is a moment of hesitation during which his shoulders tense and his lips remain firm and unyielding. Then he surrenders. She can feel him do it in a way that is more than just physical. He gives himself to her completely, flings himself into the kiss with all the fire and passion she has come to expect from him; anything she wants he will provide, anything she asks for, he will deliver. But she only wants one thing.