"You," Rey breathes.
"That's right. Me."
"Since when?"
Virya gives Rey disappointed, Oh, come now look. Rey's heart sinks.
The sadness, brief and stabbing, is quickly washed out by a wave of anger and alarm. "Where is Leia? Is she safe? The ship-"
Virya's head tilts quizzically. "Still asking questions? Haven't you just learned not to trust a single thing I say?"
Rey burns to strike the other woman in the face. But she knows the rest of the room is just waiting for a trigger to violence. Everyone including Ben, hidden somewhere in the balcony shadows. Ben, who by some miracle has managed to restrain himself seeing Virya's betrayal. But the moment violence breaks out, Rey knows there will be no stopping him. So she forces herself to be still. For his sake.
"So what?" she asks. "Was it all lies from the start? Your father's death. Running from the First Order and seeking asylum with Leia… none of it was true?"
"Afraid not. Though you didn't make it terribly difficult for me."
"I trusted you," Rey spits.
"And whose to blame for that?" Virya snaps, suddenly right up in Rey's face. "You were spying yourself. Lying yourself. Just for different people. Yet still you went on, blindly, insistently trusting me, you stupid, stupid girl."
Rey's breath hitches at the sudden intensity. Far from the calm gloating of Doran, Virya is full of repressed spite, as if resentful over a victory too easily won. Angry, as if she was the betrayed and not the betrayer.
"You should have known better," Virya says bitterly.
"Indeed," Doran agrees. "Not the brightest star in the galaxy, is she? And while we're on that topic, Virya, don't you think it's time we let our other guest in from the cold?"
Virya's straightens, all her burning emotion shoved back beneath the ice of her beauty. Her mouth presses into a line and, to Rey's horror, she looks straight at the balcony door. Straight at Ben.
Rey rushes forward to grab her.
Virya whirls, throwing her hand up between herself and Rey. It won't be enough. Rey is a trained Jedi and Virya is only a -
The Force slams into Rey like a charging bull, knocking her hard into the wall and pinning her there, feet off the ground.
What? Rey blinks dazedly, her mind struggling to reassemble from impact. What?
Virya turns back to the balcony. With the flick of her wrist, the door flies open. The blizzard comes roaring in. And in the midst of its pelting wind and driving snow, a figure in black is dragged along the floor, on his knees, struggling against invisible bonds.
Oh, no. Rey's muddled mind cracks with fear. She struggles, mind clearing. "No, stop!"
Virya sends the Force slamming into Rey again, knocking the air from her chest. Rey gasps like a fish on a dock. The whole room spins.
"You stay right there," Virya says to her. Then, using the Force, she hauls Ben's struggling body up onto the broad table.
The other families stare in shock at the prisoner before them.
Rey watches in half-dazed horror, a blurry film stretched over her vision, the air stripped from her lungs. She has to use the Force now, no matter the risk. This has gone too far.
As if sensing her thoughts, Virya clenches a delicate fist and a band of Force energy squeezes around Rey's throat. The pressure isn't enough to kill but enough to make breathing and speaking difficult. Also, Rey discovers with horror, it cuts her off from touching her own connection with the Force. A choke hold, both physical and metaphysical. It's a sophisticated maneuver, the kind that takes a lifetime to master. And Virya has done it. Virya, who had worked alongside Rey for months without showing a hint of Force sensitivity. Virya, who only cared about high society and pretty dresses and marrying Kylo Ren.
Or so Rey had thought. But she'd been wrong about her. Perhaps more wrong than she'd ever been about anyone else in her life.
Apparently, the other families had also never known. After a brief and stunned pause, they erupt.
"Since when?!" Lynus slams a fist on the table, nearly cracking it. "Since fucking when is your daughter is connected to the Force!?"
"You had him?" Jae demands of Virya, striding to the door and slamming it shut. The winter storm is replaced by his blustering. "For how long, Virya? Before you told me to retrieve them from the ball? You could have told me."
Doran raises a hand and the room goes silent. Though most of them look unhappy about it. Mikael has to lay a hand on Lynus' shoulder to make him stop bellowing. But judging by the look on the boy's face, he seems to have half a mind to slip the muzzle off his uncle's frothing jaws and let him bite.
"Let me remind you now," Doran says stonily. "I do not answer to you lot. You answer to me. That was our agreement. I finish off Kylo Ren and the last Jedi. In return, you fall in line behind me as your new Supreme Leader."
Tension pulses around the table. But no one challenges Doran.
"Since you asked, Lynus, my eldest has always been connected to the Force. It runs in our bloodline. And that is only one of many secret advantages I have kept from you over the years. You might keep that in mind before you speak out of turn again."
"Your bloodline, eh?" Lynus grunts, though he seems unsettled. "Bullshit. If your other children had even a smidgen of the Force, you wouldn't have blown them up along with your wife."
Blown them up along with your wife? Rey's unfocused gaze finds Virya, looking for a reaction. So Virya's mother and siblings had been murdered. That hadn't been a lie. But it was her own father who had done it. Had Virya known? Had she helped?
"Bring him to me," Doran says.
At first, Rey's foggy mind thinks he's talking about Lynus. But when Virya curls her fingers, it is Ben's body that skates the length of the table. Then he is kneeling before the Vorians like a sacrificial offering.
"Remove this," Doran orders next. "I want to see his face."
Part of Rey spasms as Virya reaches for Ben's mask. Once it's off, there will be no denying his identity. No protecting him from this dark cult that had once tainted his very soul. The First Order will see Ben Solo on his knees before them, and they will reach out and destroy him all over again.
"No," Rey rasps, surprised to find that the noose has loosened slightly. Virya jerks, surprised by Rey's voice. Had she weakened? Or had her focus simply slipped?
"Virya," Rey wheezes. "Don't…"
The strangling band around Rey's throat tightens once again. Rather than try to fight it, Rey goes perfectly still. She holds stubbornly to her thread of consciousness. If she provokes Virya again and the choke hold tightens any further, even Rey won't be able to stay conscious. On the other hand, if Virya becomes distracted, there's a chance her hold might lapse once more.
Virya presses the release mechanisms in Ben's helmet. She knows exactly where they are. Of course she does. The Seamster, her servant, had designed it.
The mask falls away. Rey expects an explosion of violence, bellowing and blood, and the crunching of bone. But whatever silencing noose Virya had slipped over Rey, she must have done the same to Ben when he was out on the balcony. That was why he hadn't burst in immediately at Virya's betrayal. Rey had thought it had been newfound patience, but he'd likely been immobilized before Rey had even reached the tower. He'd been out there, trapped, and unable to warn her.
Now Ben kneels before their captors, rage and bitterness burning black in his eyes. And beneath that, there is a touch of something Rey recognizes. Fear. Not of losing his life, but of losing everything else all over again. A fear of failure. Shame.
Rey struggles uselessly to slip out of Virya's choke hold. To try and touch the Force without giving herself away. If she could only get to him. If they could only fight together, they could kill everyone in this room.
And then, some fuzzy part of Rey's mind reminds her, you would destroy this entire planet. As soon as you touch the Force, you kill him, yourself, and everyone you love who came and risked their lives to help you.
Virya reaches out and trails her fingers along the side of Ben's face. Her cold taunts are nowhere to be found now. She stares down at him with contempt, anger, and bitterness. Those emotions steal all the clever cutting words from her mouth.
"Planning to kill him with love, Virya?" One of the Drakun girls asks coyly.
"We're curious to see how that works out for you," the other purrs.
Only Virya's eyes move, landing on the Drakuns' faces like a slap. "I haven't decided how to kill him yet. Is that your way of volunteering to be a trial run, Evain?"
The twins fall silent. Ewyan snakes an arm around her sister's shoulders, half protective, half comforting.
"She has a point, Virya," Jae says. "The longer he's alive, the longer he's a threat. Why didn't you kill him the instant he was captured?"
Virya drops her hand from Ben's face. "My father just warned against speaking out of turn, Jae. Did you already forget?"
"And we swore fealty to your father," Lady Tannias replies for her grandson, eyes narrowed and voice leathery. "Not you. Doran, you'd do well to ensure your daughter knows her place in this new order."
"You swore fealty to the Vorian name," Virya counters. "You won't snake your way out of it now. Just because you treat your grandson like a disposable puppet does not mean I will tolerate the same."
"I will not be condescend to by the likes of you, child. I am the matriarch of my house."
"Oh, yes you will. Your house is a vassal to mine now. And you are a withering crone. You believe yourself above me, Taeya? If I decide to kill you, my father won't stop me. The one who doesn't know their place in the new order is you."
Taeya sneers. "You are an insolent, spoiled-"
The lithe muscles in Virya's shoulders flex.
Taeya's insult chokes off into a gurgle.
The room freezes, stunned. Taeya's creased skin darkens. Her narrow eyes bulge.
"What are you doing?" Jae stands, chair toppling. He lays a hand to his grandmother's throat, feeling for fingers he cannot touch. Taeya's eyes twitch toward his face, outraged and disbelieving even as they begin to roll back.
"Stop it, Virya!" Jae's voice breaks. "You're killing her! Doran, make her stop!"
But Doran only watches, and Virya doesn't stop, not for all of Jae's begging. Unwavering, she squeezes out the last of Lady Taeya's years, until finally the old woman goes limp.
And in the midst of this all, Rey feels the stranglehold around her own throat loosening. Degree by slight degree. Virya is talented in the Force, and has clearly been training all her life. But she can only do so many things at once before her focus slips. And that's where Rey's opportunity lies.
By the time Lady Taeya collapses face down onto the table, her grandson horrified at her side, Rey is breathing freely again. She is still pinned to the wall, and there is still a collar holding her back from her own connection to he Force. But her lungs are filled with air and her mind swims up to the surface of clarity. Rather than try to break free and alert Virya again, this time Rey decides to bide her time. If the patience earns her more slack, she may get a cleaner chance to strike.
"What have you done?" Jae whispers, staring at Taeya's corpse in horror.
"Oh please," Virya snaps. "You should thank me. You'd have never been freed from her clutches on your own."
"She was my grandmother, Virya."
"She was a cold, heartless bitch."
"Look whose talking," Ewyan mutters.
Virya looks sharply across the table and the Drakun twins put their hands up in surrender.
"It's a compliment in our books, Virya. You know that."
Virya scoffs and faces Doran, making a point of turning her back on the rest of the room, showing she doesn't consider them a threat. She lays a hand on Ben's shoulder, ignoring the way his eyes blaze at the touch.
"Father, I want to be alone with him."
Rey's heart skips.
Doran, who up until this point had been watching his daughter establish her authority, frowns. "To what end?"
"None. Other than that you promised him to me."
"I recall no such promise."
"When I was a girl. You said he would be mine."
"And so he will be. When you kill him for me, his very life will be yours."
"No," Virya shakes her head. "It will be yours. As it should be. But I want to be alone with him first. Before he dies."
"And what about this one?" Doran asks, glancing at Rey as if she were no more than a butterfly pinned to an exhibit wall.
Virya scoffs. "As you can see, she is no real challenge for me. I'll deal with her as we planned. Surely, I've proven I don't need your supervision for that?"
Anger blazes briefly behind Doran's blue eyes. For a moment, Rey thinks he will deny her. Then, glancing around the rest of the room, he nods. "Very well. The rest of us will go down and announce that this ball is to be my coronation. By the time my daughter joins us, she will be a goddess among mortals."
"Goddess?" Mikael asks. "Care to elaborate on that?"
Doran gestures to Rey. "She doesn't look like much, but this girl holds a great deal of the Force inside her. After my daughter rids us of this broken fool, she'll drain the Jedi of her power and take it for herself."
She'll what? Rey's skin ripples with chill. She remembers Palpatine drawing the Force out her and Ben in Exegol. But surely, Virya wasn't at the same level as a Sith Master. Was she? And, the way Rey was now, prone to detonate at the slightest touch, would it be safe for even a Master to try? Did Virya understand that risk?
There is a low mutter of surprise. But no one dares to protest after Virya's little display. The Lannlas and Drakuns stand and filter warily out of the room. Jae lingers to collect his grandmother's body from the table. In his arms, the dead Lady Taeya looks like a mummified child, small and frail. Jae, slipped from outrage into shock, casts a stunned look at Virya before stepping out the door.
Doran leaves last, pausing in the doorway. He lowers his voice so the others cannot hear. "Never," he warns Virya, "make a request of me in public again. We are a unified front now. You and I. Pulling something like that is not something I'll tolerate again. Understood?"
Virya nods. "Yes, Father. I understand."
"Good."
Then the door closes, leaving the three of them alone. Ben, Rey, and Virya.
"Well," Virya sighs, leaning against the back of her father's chair. "Here we are. Alone at last."