Chapter Four
Until we see her darkness, we can never truly know her.
It was cold and wet the day Master Skywalker taught her about the Hibernation Trance. The low-hanging clouds were heavy with moisture, billowing wisps of white floating only a few hundred feet above their heads on the stony, somber island on Ach-To. She sat cross-legged on the damp ground, hunched and shivering against the brisk wind, wishing that for once, her master would build a fire to at least minimally shield her from the harsh elements.
No such luck. As Master Skywalker stood in front of her, she gave out another involuntary shudder. She knew he saw it, but he did nothing to acknowledge it. Annoyed, she let out a breathy sigh; he didn't acknowledge that, either.
"Jedi Hibernation allows the individual employing this tactic to slow his or her bodily functions to a near standstill," he began, without preface. "Metabolism, breathing, pulse; all become measured and deliberate and remain in that state until the Jedi mindfully emerges."
Rey blinked. He couldn't be serious. She looked up into his bright, kind eyes, and saw a sparkle emerge in them as he smiled gently. "I wouldn't believe it either."
Rey regained her composure and sat up a bit straighter, clearing her throat. "Sorry…it just seems…"
"Far-fetched?" he offered.
"…a bit."
"What part of the Force does not seem excessively far-fetched to one who knows nothing of it?"
Rey assessed that statement as wholly true and exceedingly fair. "How long can one remain in hibernation?"
"It's difficult to articulate the exact amount of time. There are many external elements that come into play: the climate of the surrounding environment, for example. Most important, however, are the physical, mental and emotional conditions of the Jedi in hibernation." He paused. "It can be dangerous, if not done properly."
"Dangerous?" Rey asked, eyebrow cocked. "But if the Jedi is in control –"
"The biggest mistake a Jedi can ever make is to fall victim to falsely believing he or she is solely in control of anything," Master Skywalker snapped.
His out of character response caused Rey to lose her sense of self and look up at him, mouth slightly agape. She noted his face had gone dark; the brightness of his eyes was gone, and the lines on his face were now cast in shadow. His jaw jutted forward angularly, which set his lips into a grim line. He was glaring at her, and she could feel the force fracture menacingly around her.
"I'm sorry if I overstepped," she said quietly, barely above a whisper. Though she wasn't entirely sure what exactly she was apologizing for.
The Jedi Master closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, and she could feel the Force swirling around him, re-centering and mending itself into the light and fluid energy she had grown to find so comforting.
"No, I'm sorry," he uttered genuinely, as he opened his eyes, and she was relieved to see that the kind sparkle had returned. As the momentary discord had passed, Master Skywalker continued, answering Rey's question, "If one is physically injured, it is possible to slip into hibernation in order to allow the body to heal itself; similarly, if one is unable to survive the surrounding environment, either hot or cold, the suspension of being allows the individual to pull the Force around the body, to act as a shield."
Rey nodded, biting her inner lip as she thought of how to word her next question. "How is this dangerous?"
"The peril of hibernation does not lie within utilizing it for physical protection."
Rey nodded slowly, squinting her eyes down at the ground in comprehension. "It's when one uses it for mental and emotional protection."
The Jedi nodded. "Precisely."
Neither spoke for quite some time. She mulled over what Master Skywalker had said, trying to put the pieces together, to put words to why it all made sense. She wanted to ask for clarification, especially considering she was only a few months into her training, and this technique seemed immensely advanced for a Padawan of her experience.
"So…" she cleared her throat in order to speak above the increasingly strong wind that nipped at her the tips of her nose and the tops of her ears. "Jedi Hibernation can protect me from bodily harm, helping me to funnel the Force toward healing severe wounds, and can enable me to survive otherwise life-threatening conditions, such as extreme heat or cold." Rey chewed the inside of her lip again, her brow furrowed in focus. "And it can also help to suspend my mind, should it be at the brink of brokenness or corruption."
"Yes."
"But, if I decide to hibernate to protect my mind, my feelings..." She stuttered, not being able to articulate what she knew to be true. "…then…then…I can either be successful and regenerate my mental strength, or…or I can unknowingly succumb to exactly what I had been trying to overcome."
"Yes."
She looked up him again, doe-eyed and a bit fearful. "I could lose control of my emotions by trying to preserve them. I could…I could be influenced, controlled."
"Yes," he said again. As she grappled with a sense of overwhelming foreboding that seemed both out of place but ominously imminent, Master Skywalker continued, "And if done in the presence of one with whom you share a connection, especially a Force Bond, it can ruin you."
"What?" she asked, almost inaudibly.
His muted reply matched her own. "It can turn you to the Dark Side."
The wind had become deafening, and as Rey looked up into the sky, she noticed that a strong storm had quickly encapsulated the island. Pellets of purple rain began to fall from the sky, stinging her face as they unmercifully splattered against her body, leaving raw, tender marks.
Rey stood up quickly as she and her master moved quickly inside. Her mind was tired, her body icy and achy. The sinister and menacing distress was still gnawing at her insides, seeming to grow hungrier as the seconds passed.
She knew what that meant, so she needed to ask the question. "Master, how will I know if it's the right decision to use it?"
Master Skywalker glanced at her, and she saw a knowing sadness behind his eyes that all but confirmed her fears.
"You just…will."
…..
It was a strange feeling, being suspended in nothingness.
But what Rey relished most was the detachment, and she reveled in the blissful knowledge that at that moment, nobody could reach her. Or talk to her.
Or hurt her.
The hurt that bombarded her soul had almost become a part of her over the past few weeks she had spent in captivity. Locked up like a societal menace in the harshly bright holding cell, she had lost track of time, which had caused her anxiety to escalate to the point where she had nervously bitten the inside of her lip so raw, she needed a medical droid to administer a painful shot filled with some First Order disinfectant to prevent it from festering. She had chewed all of her nails down to the nubs and had refused food for so many days straight that her frame, which had always been slight and firm, was now emaciated and bony. She didn't have the luxury of a mirror, but had she access to one, she probably wouldn't dare look in it anyway; her weight loss had caused her old clothing to no longer fit, and she had been instructed to remove her gray Padawan attire in exchanged for an exact replica of what her daily wardrobe was on Jakku – except, of course, instead of white, the entire ensemble was black.
She was sure Kylo Ren got a kick out of it.
And when she wasn't mindlessly pulling at her dark clothing out of disgust, or refusing her meals, or biting her nails, or infecting her mouth with her nervous chewing, she found herself being constantly bombarded by the presence of Ren.
Their conversations had been mostly mindless. Mocking her for pursuing the Light and constantly asking and assessing what she remembered of her childhood, her home, her family.
"You said you can take what you want," she muttered to him between her gritted teeth. "So why don't you just take it so you can leave me be?"
He smiled that obnoxiously smug knowing half-smile, his lips soft but his words hard. "It's more fun to play with you."
She turned around to face him, her eyes narrow. "Or maybe it's because you know you can't take anything from me, without me taking something from you."
It was a challenge. And it wiped that smirk off of his young face.
She hated him.
But it was a different kind of hate.
It wasn't the hate that made her sick after watching him murder Han Solo. It wasn't the hate she felt burning inside her bones when she saw him almost kill Finn. It wasn't the distaste she had for him after hearing about who he was as Ben Solo, Han and Leia's son, from Luke Skywalker.
This hate ran deeper. It was a hate that she knew was mutual, a hate that was connected, a hate that, as much as she didn't want to admit, was laced with a sense of intrigue.
She had come to view him as her competition; for what, exactly, she had no idea. It sounded preposterous, but as his visits became more frequent and scheduled, she began to almost look forward to them. She looked forward to the challenge, to the opportunity to outwit and outmatch him at his own game, the way she had on Starkiller Base. She looked forward to the chance to once again leave her mark, the way she had so adeptly left him scarred, leaving a permanent wound on his otherwise dark and handsome face.
She had felt herself yearning for the chance to prove to Ren that she was superior. Stronger with the Force. More talented with a lightsaber. Smarter than his witty banter. More intelligent than the games he played with her mind. It was the lust for greatness, for power over Ren, that had caused her to unleash whatever dark powers she had in her soul in front of Snoke, splitting his throne and making Ren "very" happy.
It made her realize that she hadn't had the upper hand; those conversations, her retorts, the times she had bested him were all calculated attempts on his behalf to render her exactly where she was: angry, shameless, competitive and power-hungry.
He had been winning all along.
It was a realization that smacked her psyche so hard she felt dizzy. She had vomited and began screaming and clawing at the walls of her cell, shaking so violently that the psytechs were called to forcefully administer her anti-anxiety medication. And while the meds helped take the edge off of her agony, her depression spiraled so out of control that Kylo Ren himself had heard of it and marched into her cell.
He took one look at her – hair completely down and matted, eyes wide and glazed, streaks of blood across her face and hands from tearing at the jagged walls – and he had immediately removed his mask, letting it fall to the ground with a loud thunk.
Rey was momentarily pulled from her stupor when she realized the expression that had crossed Ren's face. Was that…compassion?
"Come here," he said, holding out his hand. She flinched automatically, expecting him to either forcefully compel her toward him or to feel his presence in her mind. She opened her eyes when she felt neither. He was simply holding out his hand toward her.
And she began laughing; in actuality, it was more akin to high-pitched shrieking.
And that was when Ren had swooped over to her, holding her close around her waist with one arm, as he placed his right hand on her forehead and…
…and the warmth. The genuine warmth she had felt. It came over her as the numbness had before she had been presented to Snoke…but it was different. Gentle. Honest. Calming.
She felt him slowly release his arm around her waist and remove his hand from her forehead. She looked up at him, her mind clearer than it had been in weeks, and she saw softness in his eyes.
As if suddenly shot with a blaster, he pushed himself away from her altogether, and she saw the hardness return to his brown eyes. He picked up his mask, placed it back over his freckled face, and said mechanically, "Clean yourself up," before storming out of her cell, leaving her standing alone, utterly confused.
It was after she had cleaned herself up – taking a shower in the Holding Block common bathroom and receiving a new black tunic and legging ensemble – when she remembered that particular conversation with Master Skywalker about Jedi Hibernation. And she had no doubt that it was her only hope of surviving this place, of saving herself.
She had never been surer of anything in her life.
And so, here she was. In hibernation.
Floating. In nothingness. Alone.
"Alone?"
Her consciousness jumped as she heard his voice, clear as day, red terror bleeding into the once-saturated black surrounding her.
"What kind of host would I be if I left my guest all alone?"
Author's Note: I cannot express my gratitude enough to each and every one of you who have reviewed, followed and favorited this story. I am truly flattered and even more excited that you are enjoy it so far!
I have a rough outline of where I am taking this story, but any input from all of you – whether through PM or reviews – will absolutely help to guide me in the direction that will make it the best it can be. 3