If Rey's hands weren't on him, he might follow his mother, press her for what she'd meant. But instead, that deep feeling that always compels him to focus only on Rey has him turning to her like a tree's roots strain for water. Just like that, Leia fades from his awareness. Rey's touch skitters along every nerve ending and he needs her gaze in a way he can't comprehend.
And, so, he looks down into her beautiful, perfect face, her fathomless eyes blinking as she asks, "What's wrong?"
He doesn't want to explain, he wants to pretend and soak up as much of her as he can before the inevitable. Avoiding thinking about it, he asks his own question, the question he's yearned to ask. "May I … May I hold you?"
She smiles in an easy way that makes him think perhaps he hasn't pushed too far.
"Oh … Ky-I mean … of course. I thought you knew you don't need permission, not after … last time." The shyness in her bearing glints with the young woman she should have been allowed to become.
Cautiously, he reaches for her hands. Nodding slightly, she accepts his overture, folding her fingers with his. Holding her gaze, he whispers, "I will never touch you without your permission."
Rey's eyes widen, impossibly round, and then she says, "I wish I could call you by your name."
"You can," he says without thinking.
"Kyl-"
"No." Her confused expression makes his face pull into a grimace. "I mean … that's not my name."
"But … you're Kylo Ren?" she presses.
"Yes … and no. I …" He can't quite find the words he needs.
Yet her face blooms with understanding. "You needed another name. Like I needed Kira."
He wants to find her eyes, to be as honest as she has been with him, but all he can do is look away and nod tightly.
"I trust you. Won't you trust me?"
His gaze flies to her with panic. "Of course! I … I've always trusted you."
She steps even closer and puts her head against his chest, no doubt hearing his hammering heart. "I need to know what to call you. I need to know who it is I believe in."
Trembling, his arms come up around her as his mind spins. Holding her, it's all he hoped and so much more. She simply fits, fits in a way that turns his storm into a wide, placid ocean. He brings his hand to cradle her head to him as he tries to comprehend what she's said. The trembling only increases as her burrows his fingers into her hair, finally feeling the fine silk between his digits. She's so soft, so sacred.
Can she believe in him? Could she … could he matter so much? He doesn't know how to explain that she's the only thing he's ever wanted, completely. She'd likely recoil in disgust if she knew how deeply he's fallen. Yet … she is letting him hold her. Conflict has defined his very existence for as long as he can remember, but there is no doubt, no confusion about his feelings for Rey.
Yes, he'd thought he'd wanted the dark side.
Yes, he'd thought he'd wanted to be Kylo Ren.
Yes, he'd thought he could shut out the call to the light.
But now he has no idea—that he never did. This is the first time he knows what he wants.
He's helpless when he says, "Ben. My name is Ben."
"Ben," she murmurs, her voice vibrating against him.
When was the last time he'd heard his name? He's certainly never heard it said with such reverence, and a rift within him begins to knit together. At least he finally knows who he is, at the end.
Holding her as tightly as he dares, he lets himself feel complete for the first time in his life.
Ben had let her lead him into her little house, almost in a daze, senses scrambled by so much of her. Now, they're sitting together on her settee, nestled close and oh how he wants to sear it all into his mind so that this feeling is the last thing he knows.
Turning slightly, she takes his hands in hers, the leather still separating them. Slowly, tenderly, her fingers creep to the wrist of his right hand and he's certain he's never experienced such intimacy, never knew he could, as she gently pulls his glove away.
He shudders as she tangles their fingers together, stroking his palm with her thumb, undoing him with each draw of her skin against his.
"Please, tell me what's happened, why you brought your mother?"
He doesn't want to. He wants to stretch this moment to fill a lifetime, but he can't. Looking down at their hands laced in a beautiful picture of how enmeshed she's become in his heart, in his soul, he lets out a long, pained breath.
"My master … he's a very powerful man, Supreme Leader of the First Order."
Rey nods. "I know. I didn't learn much on Jakku, but even I'd heard of the First Order."
He'd never really thought about it before, how much she might already know of him. Is it possible she has some awareness of what he is? Not that it matters much at this point.
"Somehow … he found out about you."
There's real fear in her eyes when she asks, "Do we need to leave?"
"Yes … that's why my mother is with me. She leads the Resistance, you know of them?" Again she nods and he continues, "She's a good woman. She'll keep you safe."
"Your mother, you want me to stay with your mother?" she asks in disbelief.
"I don't want you to be alone."
"Why would I be alone?" She doesn't pull away, but wariness thrums through her. "Won't you be able to find a way to see me?"
Turning to face her fully, he strips away his other glove, hoping she meant it that he's allowed to touch her. Cradling her cheeks with his hands, he holds her gaze deeply.
"Rey … I have to keep you safe."
"I don't understand."
"There's no way out for me. But there is for you."
Her hands cover his and panic overtakes the hazel of her eyes. "What do you mean, 'no way out'?" she asks with dread.
"He … he's going to kill me for my disloyalty," he admits in a low, quavering voice.
"No!" she nearly yells. "No, you can't let him!"
"It's the only way he'll let you live."
He's entirely unprepared when she wraps herself around him. Oh, gods, she feels so good. Her head shakes against him as she just repeats, "No," over and over again.
It's difficult for him to understand this outpouring of emotion, for him, for his life. Is his death truly so hard for her to face? Perhaps it's because he's ensured a better life for her. Yes, that's it. She's afraid of ending up back in some brothel.
Soothing his hand along her back as she shakes, he says, "Shhhh, it's alright. My mother will make sure you have a wonderful life; you'll never have to struggle again."
Rey rears back and looks at him aghast. "I don't care about that! I don't want you to die! I don't want you to leave me!"
All he can do is blink at her, a terrifying, blessed conclusion whispering to his healing heart.
"Don't you know?" she asks with a tilted head.
Nothing in his life has prepared him for this, for this tremulous feeling of hope. Is it possible? Could he … could he truly matter to this singular woman?
A small smile quirks her lips. "Ben … I care for you. Almost from the very beginning, I've felt something … something old and new at the same time."
His history roars into him and tamps down this beautiful possibility. She can't mean it. She can't.
Then her expression falters and she starts to draw away. "Of course. I'm just a whore. You … you don't feel the same."
That slices through the chaos in his head and without thinking he almost lunges for her, pulling her into his arms. "I do! Gods, Rey! I do! I just never imagined you would ever …" Not knowing how to truly let this in, he buries his face in the space where her neck meets her shoulder.
Gently, she runs her fingers through his hair and whispers, "How could I not? No one has ever made me feel safe before."
He nods into her shoulder, "I know, I know." When he's with her, he feels it, too.
"When we touch … it's different. I want to touch you."
Pulling back, he again cups her face with his hands as her fingers knead into his biceps. She's so close he can't quite focus on both of her eyes. Even if he had years and years to learn her, he knows he could never grow used to how good, how right she feels under his fingers.
"I've never felt anything like how it feels to simply be near you. That you let me touch you …" he trails off as his eyes slide away.
"Ben, didn't you hear me? I want you to touch me," she repeats.
Terrified to see the truth in her eyes, he keeps his gaze averted. If she truly does care for him, welcome him, it will be so much harder to leave her. It will hurt her, and he never wants to cause her even a single moment of pain.
Now, he feels her fingers on his cheeks as she bids, "Look at me. Please look at me."
Unable to deny her anything, his eyes cautiously find hers. There's only warmth and sincerity in their depths, causing a broken little sound to be torn from his throat. Her fingers stroke his cheeks and he's never known such overwhelming sensations.
Determination creases her brow and she's darting forward, hands pulling his face to hers. Her lips are on his before he can process what she's doing. Clumsily, he tries to kiss her back, tries to fill his first caress with the words he can't even allow himself to think.
Feeling foolish for his inept attempt, he begins to pull back, but she nearly growls, keeping a firm hold on his cheeks, lips still moving against his. Oh. Oh! They find their rhythm and the feeling of her soft mouth ignites something new, low in his abdomen. He wants her.
Ben had never allowed himself to acknowledge his passion for Rey, certain she would never want to be touched again in this lifetime. But she's shifting, moving even closer, holding him. All he can do is whimper when her little tongue parts his lips.
Stars explode behind his eyes, consuming anything but Rey. He's falling. He's merging. Unbound, unleashed. It's as if he's in the deepest of meditations and lost to the freedom of flying. There has never been anything but their two lonely spirits, as if they hold the spark of creation in their hands. He didn't think he could feel any closer to her, when the Force begins to throb all around them.
Rey unfurls through his consciousness, like a sea of blooming flowers, reaching for the sun.
With his world in his arms, his mind fills with flashes of a future that cannot be. Images of heat and skin, moments of pure bliss as he shows her the galaxy, contentment, wholeness infusing everything.
There, she stands on the shores of his family's home on Naboo, framed by the pink glow of the setting sun. They train together, moving as one, like a dance. And through it all, her eyes hold him fast.
The Force is singing.
But then she's gasping and pulling away, keeping their faces close. "What was that?" she asks with wonder and fear. "Did you do that?"
It might be the first time a Force vision has brought him joy.
"No, it was the Force. In you."
"I … I feel … I feel …" Her eyes are wide with confusion.
"You've Awakened. Like my mother said, you have the Force."
"I didn't understand. I just thought it meant I'd be able to make things float. But it's like … everything is brighter, deeper."
"Yes, I remember. You'll learn quickly how it moves through you, through everything," he says with a soft smile, chest full with the realization that it was kissing him that brought her powers to the surface. But then he finds himself wondering why …
"Will you teach me?" she asks eagerly.
What would he give to watch her grow, shine like he's sure she will? If only he'd not made such burning cinder of his life, oh the things he would show her.
Potent anguish bubbles up within him but is swiftly demolished when she straddles his lap and kisses him again. Maker, her mouth holds the secrets of the universe and all he wants to do is spend eternity right here. The pain can wait. Let him have this, please, gods, let him have this.
Something is winding through him, as if his cells are coming alive for the first time. Thank the Maker he'd never shared this with anyone before, though he's certain it wouldn't have been like this.
"Mmmmm," she hums with obvious enjoyment and he begins to panic. He's responding to a lap-full of Rey; he doesn't want to scare her with his obvious desire. Kissing is one thing, but surely she wouldn't want the reminder of what beasts men can be?
Yet she doesn't seem to mind, her hands pulling him closer as her kiss becomes almost hungry. Eventually, she breaks their lips apart and they both pant, foreheads touching.
"You are my first kiss," she admits in a husky voice.
That startles him. How had she managed that? "And you gave it to me?" he asks in stunned disbelief.
She nods slightly and he wraps her in his long arms, pressing her back against him. "Thank you," he rumbles with meaning.
Together, they bask in the Force thrumming through them, between them, and the feeling of finally being whole.
He's far too drunk on her to consider what it all means.
It's time. Ben knows it is. It was so much easier to accept his fate—right and proper, even— before he knew his dreams were possible. Likely. Shared.
Running his fingers through her hair, Rey draped across his lap, he smiles, or perhaps grimaces at the irony. She's made his heart beat again, and now it's shattering in his chest at the prospect of saying goodbye.
Though everything has changed, nothing has, and his conclusion remains the same. He must face Snoke and likely die for it. If he doesn't, she'll never be safe. His master would hunt her out of spite. If he tells Snoke everything, submits, the accounts will be balanced.
He supposes his master might let him live, if only to enjoy his misery. Because a life without Rey is no life at all.
No. This is the only way. She'll recover.
She has too.
Just as he's about to rip himself in two, Rey lifts her head from his chest and tilts her head quizzically. "We should tell your mother she can leave," she says matter-of-factly.
"What?" he asks in utter confusion.
"Well, now that you aren't going to your master, we have to get ready to run."
Staring at her blankly, he opens his mouth to speak but no words come out.
Her face fills with apprehension. "You can't go, not now."
Clenching his eyes shut briefly, he lets out a long breath. She doesn't understand.
"Rey … I have to."
"Why?" she asks, her expression turning frantic.
"It's the only way you'll be safe."
"We'll run! Somewhere he can't find us!"
"I don't believe such a place exists," he admits, grief bleeding from his tone.
"I don't accept that." Denial threads through her.
"I promise, if there were another way …"
Rey begins to pull at the cloth of his cloak. "Please don't do this to me, please."
He blinks rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay as he sees her eyes grow wet. "It's better this way, you'll see."
Her gaze fills with fire and she jumps up from his lap. He assumes she just can't bear to touch him in her anger, but then she's marching out her front door. It takes a moment for him to catch up before he's following her.
Rey is making a beeline for his mother, who's sitting on a fallen tree next to her ship, gazing into the forest, back turned.
Rushing to close the distance, he hears Rey's cracking voice.
"—have to stop him! Don't let him go! Don't let him die!"
Leia stands and looks straight at him with burning accusation. Of course his mother would have thought Rey would sway him. She had accepted it too easily, he realizes.
"Well, Son, will you listen to her?" Leia asks with recrimination as he reaches the woman who gave him life, and the woman who gave it meaning.
His face settles into stone as he tries to remember how not to feel. "I will not put Rey in danger," he declares firmly.
"I don't care!" Rey wails, gesticulating with her hands.
"There is no other way to make certain you're safe!" he exclaims. Can't she see that she's all that matters to him?
"I can take care of myself! I have the Force, now!"
His feet carry him forward and he towers over her. "It doesn't matter! He's so much stronger than any Force-user I've ever met. You'll die screaming if I don't do this." His tone becomes pleading.
"Then let me come with you," she begs, clutching at his tunic.
Clasping her hands in his, he swallows through the tears threatening to fall. "Then we would both die."
"I'm not worth throwing your life away," she sobs as her own tears overtake her.
"Oh, but you are … you don't know what I've done, all the blood on my hands."
"I don't care!" she repeats stubbornly.
This isn't going to work. He won't have Rey's last memory of him ripped apart by her baffling belief his life is worth risking hers. Instead, he sighs and wipes the tears from her face.
Pointless hope fills her eyes, and he can't stop the words she has written across his very being.
"I love you."
Rey begins to smile, and he pulls her to him, kissing her fiercely. The duality of love and crushing pain makes him want to scream. But instead, he cradles her body to keep her from falling. Continuing to consume her mouth, he blankets her consciousness with the Force and catches her now limp form, his lips echoing with her kiss.
He can barely hear his mother's gasp as he gazes down into Rey's sleeping face. "You are all that matters to me," he murmurs.
So gently, he places her on the soft grass, grazing her cheek with his fingers one last time. Leia is speaking, but he can't understand her words through the agony ripping through him.
Standing, he finds his mother's swollen eyes. "Take care of her."
She nods slowly, and somewhere far away, he knows her cracked wide open expression would have brought him to his knees on any other day. But all there is is an exquisite anguish matched only in intensity with his need to ensure a good life for Rey.
Turning on his heel, swift and regimented, he stalks to his ship.
With his back to Rey's sleeping form, the tears finally overtake him.
A/N: HEA Policy in firm effect!
Thank you, ArtemisBare, I can never squeeze those quick and dirty stage direction descriptions past you! Thank you, Silvergrain, you always bring new texture to my stories.
Thank you, Readers! Woohoo! My muse seems to be back in the swing of things. I'm keeping a close eye on her, but she still won't stop smoking clove cigarettes. It has been marvelous to reconnect with you, I missed you all terribly. Kisses from New Orleans!