Published January 23, 2021

"Connection"

It may be that we have lost our ability to hold a blazing coal, to move unfettered through time, to walk on water, because we have been taught that such things have to be earned; we should deserve them; we must be qualified. We are suspicious of grace. We are afraid of the very lavishness of the gift.

But a child rejoices in presents!

~ Madeleine L'Engle, Walking on Water

On a clear, exceptionally dry day, Ben arranged a rock garden outside his hut. After years of living on sterile spacecraft, it felt good to work with dirt. Handling rocks reminded him of his early days of training with other Force-sensitive children, but he did not use the Force now.

The garden served no practical purpose, other than giving himself something to work on. That was something else he had to reconsider: the concept of productivity and the value of time.

The only things that gave him any kind of deadline were the weather and the seasons. He tried to gather food and firewood during clear periods, and wash and hang his clothes to dry when the sun was shining.

One evening, Ben misjudged the time while meditating by the mosaic in the mountain. Storm clouds had rolled in without his noticing, and he was not halfway back to the village before the rain began and soaked him through. He ran the rest of the way and entered his hut covered in sweat and mud.

When he lit the portable solar lamp, he saw Rey turning around to face him, which would not have startled him except for the fact that she looked different: she was wearing a blue and silver dress, and her hair was styled with an elegant braid twisted into a bun and several curls hanging down.

They stared at each other, both caught off guard, feeling self-conscious for opposite reasons.

"Hey," Rey offered.

"Hey," Ben returned. "I—uh—what—"

"We're going to a formal dinner," Rey confessed. "And dancing afterwards. Believe it or not, it's part of a diplomatic mission."

"Oh, I can believe it. My—mother used to do that kind of thing a lot." Ben went to a crate and got a towel, muttering, "Excuse me."

"Caught in the rain?" Rey guessed.

"Yeah." He patted his face and tried to dry his hair with the towel. But he would have to wait until she was gone before he cleaned up the rest of himself.

He couldn't help but look Rey over. He had never seen her wear anything so fine, and he doubted she had ever dressed up like this before. She was looking down at the fancy fabric, running her hands over the folds.

"You look beautiful," Ben said truthfully.

Rey blushed at that. "Do I?"

Had he said the wrong thing? "I—well, not that you aren't in general, but—" He stopped as something occurred to him. "Has no one ever told you that before?"

"No. I don't think so. Well, Rose might have—I wasn't sure if she was talking about me, or the dress."

"Well, you are," Ben said frankly. He wished to Naboo and back that he was not covered in mud; if he wasn't a danger to her formalwear, he might have offered her a kiss for luck. He wondered, now, if someone else had, or would. "Are you going with anyone to this function?"

"Um, yeah, a few others. Finn and Poe, obviously, and Lieutenant Connix."

Ben could not help envying whoever was on this trip with her, and whoever was going to see her during this engagement.

"I hope you enjoy yourself," he said.

She blinked, surprised by the kind sentiment. "Thank you."

The Force connected them again several hours later, after Ben had cleaned up and Rey had left the party. Her hair was not quite as neat, with some strands falling out of the braid. She was sitting now, tired but quite happy.

"How did it go?" Ben asked casually.

She took a breath, still feeling exhilarated. "It was wonderful. I've never seen or done anything like that before."

"Did you dance with anyone?"

She blinked, then smiled, folding her arms. "Why do you want to know?"

He shrugged, feigning indifference. "Just making conversation."

"Oh, all right … I danced with Finn, and Poe, and a couple men I just met tonight. It's customary here to dance with the people you negotiate with. I guess it's supposed to be like a teambuilding exercise."

Ben remembered the way Rey moved when fighting, and tried to imagine, based on that, how she must have looked when dancing. He wished he could see that for himself, but he supposed their past fights were as close as he would ever come to dancing with Rey.

The Force connected them more frequently after that, every few weeks, averaging one or two times a month. There was no real pattern to the occurrences, except that they seemed to begin at moments when both halves of the dyad were alone, without other life forms nearby. Of course, Ben was alone almost all the time, with only R2-D2 nearby and the Lanai far off. But Rey found that they generally only happened at moments when she was by herself.

One time, she was eating when the Force connected them. She covered her mouth with her hand and did not immediately speak, trying to chew and swallow first.

"Did I interrupt a meal?" Ben asked, half amused and half apologetic.

Rey was sheepish. "No … I, um … I have some candy I saved from our last trip."

He raised his brow at her. "Are you sure it's just candy?"

"It's not spice or death sticks, if that's what you're getting at," she retorted, sounding a little more like how she used to talk to him.

"Then why do you look so guilty?"

She shrugged. "I guess I feel bad for hoarding it. Finn and Poe ate theirs right away, but I've been trying to make it last."

"It's their fault, then, for having it all at once."

"No, you don't get it. I …" She bit her lip, deliberating whether to confide in him. He waited, patient but curious. Then she confessed, "I got in trouble for hoarding food, a while back."

"Oh."

"Things were really bad for us after Crait. We didn't always have enough food, so when we did have it, I started saving parts of my meals for later. I had done that kind of thing on Jakku, sometimes. Then the porgs that stowed away with us got to my stash and gave me away. Leia forgave me—we weren't very well organized at that point, and I hadn't really been trained as a soldier. But I should know better by now."

"Rey, it's candy, not a four-course meal."

She smiled slightly at that. She glanced down at the package on her mattress, and then back at Ben. "Do you want some?"

He frowned in surprise. "Are you sure?"

She held out the bag. "You have sweets even more rarely than I do, now."

"Good point." He accepted a stick and tasted it experimentally. He almost gagged as the sweetness exploded on his tongue.

Rey smiled sympathetically at his reaction. "I remember the first time I tried a cookie—I found some in a box of rations on a ship. I wasn't prepared for it."

"Wait—it's better now. Oh, yeah. This is great."

She laughed watching Ben's slightly exaggerated reactions. Then she heard someone approaching her, and had to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter. Her voice was hushed as she said, "Gotta go. Bye, Ben."

"I'll see you, Rey."

On one occasion, they were both in bed when the Force connected them. If they had been close to falling asleep, they became fully awake when they sensed each other just a few feet away.

"Hey." Rey felt a little shy, being seen in her nightclothes. If this had happened when they were still enemies, she would have been alarmed, embarrassed and guarded; but they had reached such a level of trust that she didn't feel at all threatened.

"Hey," Ben replied. This seemed to be becoming their standard greeting.

They did not do much more than smile, marveling at how happy they now were to see each other. Neither of them had seen the other smile until that moment on Exegol. Now, the sight of each other's smile made them smile more—a cycle of increasing happiness.

"How are you doing?" Rey asked.

"Well enough." He paused, and said, "It's peaceful here. I like that more and more."

"The porgs aren't bothering you?"

He matched her half-joking tone. "Sometimes I think they're plotting to kill me. But most of the time they're alright."

Rey's smiled returned, but her eyes were wistful. "I wish you were here."

"I wish you were with me."

Rey reached out her hand across the mattress toward him. Ben mirrored her movement, and she was not surprised when he managed to grasp her hand. She was, however, surprised when he brought it to his lips and kissed it. Their eyes met over their clasped hands resting between them.

"Do you think we could make this last, if we held on to each other?" Rey asked thoughtfully.

"I don't know. Do you want to try?"

"Yeah. I'm curious."

So they held on to each other's hand, gently but firmly. Time passed, and they remained visible to each other.

"I guess we can make it last," Ben said finally.

"Yeah. … Maybe we should let go now," Rey murmured. "We both need our rest."

"You're right." Ben let go of her hand.

Rey reached out with her other hand and pushed his hair back from his face. "Sleep well, Ben."

"You too."

They drew their hands back from each other and closed their eyes, curling up on their own beds. How much had changed, for them to trust each other enough to sleep within the other's reach.

The next time it happened when they were both in bed, Ben felt confident enough to reach out toward Rey. He touched her cheek, then slid his hand across her hair and down her neck to her shoulder. She responded by grasping his wrist, keeping his warm hand on her skin. His fingers curled around the curve of her neck where it met her shoulder, his thumb moving back and forth across her collarbone.

She wanted to be closer to him, feel more of him. He wanted the same. But he drew his hand back reluctantly, knowing that if they started down that path—especially when they were in bed—it might spiral, one thing leading to another, until one or both of them did something regrettable. He would not risk that, when things were finally stable and reasonably healthy between them.

One day, Rey appeared to him in an unusually jovial mood. "Hey! I was hoping to see you. Happy Life Day."

"It's Life Day?" Ben could barely remember the last time he had celebrated the holiday. The First Order had been so caught up in death, its members had never taken the time to celebrate the fact that they were alive.

"We had a kind of last-minute celebration. We have some leftovers here that you can have—and Chewie and I made something for you."

Ben felt unbearably inadequate. "But … I don't have anything for you."

She shook her head slightly. "So?"

"I can't give you something in return."

"If I expected something in return, it wouldn't be a gift."

Ben had no counterargument for that.

He could not see her surroundings, but he saw the items that she picked up and passed to him. The first was a container filled with so much good-looking food that it made his mouth water. The second was an article of clothing, which he had to unfold and shake out to identify. It was a cloak—very practical for Ahch-To's cold, stormy weather—dyed a muted shade of green.

"Thank you. Thank Chewie for me, too. This is … very thoughtful." He could not meet her gaze.

Rey noticed how subdued he was. "Is something wrong?"

Ben shook his head. "It's just … there were times when I imagined all the things I could give you, if you joined me. Food, clothes, spacecraft, entire planets … I would have had the power to give you anything you wanted." He chuckled, a little bitter as he contemplated the irony. "The tables have really turned. Now you're the one giving things to me." He looked at her softly. "You're the only one who cares enough to."

She reached out and took his hand, looking into his eyes. "I never celebrated Life Day on Jakku. Chewie said it's about celebrating life, and honoring the people who give or preserve life, and give our lives meaning. For me, that includes you. I'm alive because of you."

"And I because of you."

She smiled, then kissed the back of his hand. With his other hand, Ben touched her face and hair, then leaned forward to touch his forehead to hers. "Happy Life Day, Rey."

One time, Ben appeared to her lying down, gasping and looking around wildly. "Rey! You're okay?"

"I'm fine." She took in the fact that his hair was disheveled and he had a blanket over his legs. "Are you in bed?"

He relaxed somewhat, looking sheepish. "Yeah. It's nighttime here."

Rey sat down but pulled her chair closer to him. "Did you have a bad dream?" she asked gently.

He did not meet her eyes. "Yes."

"It's okay. I'm no stranger to nightmares."

"It started out more like my memories. You were in it. It was Exegol all over again, except I couldn't climb up to where you were. I could feel you dying—just like when it really happened—but there was nothing I could do."

Rey was both pained and touched to hear this. "I'm sorry," she said, not knowing what else to say.

Ben shook his head. "It's not your fault. I don't sleep too well to begin with. Looking back, I think Snoke—or Palpatine—had a hand in that. But I don't hear or feel them anymore, so I guess this is normal after a traumatic experience."

"Can I do anything?"

He looked at her, considering how open-ended that offer was. He reached out his hand tentatively, opening his fingers. Rey placed her hand in his. They both squeezed at the same time. Then she surprised him by bending down on one knee, putting her arm around him, and leaning her head against his.

"Oh, Rey," he sighed, leaning into her warmth.

She pressed a kiss to the side of his head and smoothed his hair with her hand. "I know."

"Do you?"

"I think I do."

Ben doubted that she understood what those words meant to the Solos. Yet, somehow, he believed that it was true—that on some level, she knew how he felt about her, even if it went unspoken.

He was debating whether to say more, when something in her surroundings caught her attention. She pulled back enough to meet his eyes, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry. I have to go." She touched his face, warming his cold skin for a moment. "Sleep well." Then she stood and walked away. She paused to cast a glance back at him, then turned and was gone from his sight.

Ben wondered—not for the first time, and probably not for the last time—if he was better off getting these fleeting glimpses of her that always seemed to end too soon, or would have been better not having them at all. If he never saw her, or only saw her through holovid transmissions, then it might be easier to let go of her. But each encounter only reinforced his attachment and affection—and based on her words and actions, he suspected that they had a similar effect on her. This suspicion comforted him as he tried to go back to sleep.

Author's Notes

This and the next few chapters have been tricky to organize, because they cover a period of a few years. Some of them will be like this, with short scenes grouped more thematically than chronologically.

Disclaimer: The incident with the cookie is in Before the Awakening by Greg Rucka. Life Day is from the Star Wars Holiday Special and its recent Lego reboot.