Published December 17, 2022

"The Sacrifice"


"My father," she replied, "you have given your word to the Lord. Do to me just as you promised, now that the Lord has avenged you of your enemies, the Ammonites. But grant me this one request," she said. "Give me two months to roam the hills and weep with my friends, because I will never marry." ~ Judges 11: 36-37, New International Version


As Rey had expected, her friends were not on board with her decision.

Finn, looking for backup, immediately got Poe, who then brought his father and his girlfriend to help them reason with her. They hovered or paced around the table where Rey sat in a chair. Rose, who had hardly spoken since Paige's death, sat on the opposite side, sullen and silent.

Finn was adamant: "This is ridiculous."

Poe was dismissive: "You shouldn't even consider it."

Zorii was suspicious: "How do we even know this oracle can be trusted?"

"Lor San Tekka trusted her," Rey said flatly. The mention of his name, and his confidence, gave the others pause, but only for a moment.

"How do you know it isn't a trap?" Poe asked. "If you go to this place, and someone does come for you, it could be someone just like the raiders—or worse."

"What if he's some species that eats humans?" Finn worried.

Kes Dameron had other fears. "He could be a slaver. Or a cloner. Traffickers sometimes pretend to date or fall in love, as a recruiting tactic."

"What if he's a cult leader who sacrifices young virgins to the gods?" Zorii suggested.

"But the gods don't accept human sacrifices—do they?" Finn asked, glancing around for confirmation.

"The benevolent ones don't," Kes confirmed, "but the ones that thrive on death and darkness might. Or so their followers claim."

Strangely, hearing their protests made Rey grow stronger in her resolve. "I can't let fear hold me back from the unknown anymore. If I don't do this, I'll always feel guilty for putting myself before everyone else. I can't let anyone else be hurt or killed because of me."

When she argued this way, Zorii tried to appeal to her altruism. "But if you're gone, you won't be able to help people the way you have been."

"Maybe I will," Rey said, though she rather doubted it. "Maybe I'll find new ways to use my powers. But I can't keep doing the same thing here. I knew that even before this happened. And now that it has—if it was some kind of divine punishment, or something—I can't let everyone else take the wrath for me."

"Rey, you don't have to protect us," Poe insisted. "I, for one, am not scared of any gods."

"Poe!" Finn hissed. "That's exactly the kind of thing you shouldn't say!"

Poe spread his arms out wide. "Do you see any lightning striking me down?"

"The gods act in all kinds of ways," Kes warned, gently pushing his arm down. "It's not always immediate or supernatural. Sometimes it takes years."

Poe gestured to his young friend. "Tell that to Rey before she goes off and marries someone she doesn't even know, because of a stupid coincidence!"

Finn looked intently at her. "If this—person—does come for you … would you really go through with it? Getting married and everything?"

Rey shrugged. "It's not like I have anyone else. Who else is going to want me that way? Everyone thinks I'm a freak … and people may admire me for it, but no one wants to marry me because of it. I don't have much chance of marrying someone normal."

"Rey, that is a kriff reason to get married," Zorii said flatly.

Rey huffed. "I'm sure plenty of people have married for that reason, or for worse ones."

"That doesn't mean you have to!" Poe knelt in front of her, his expression more earnest and serious than ever. "Rey, you deserve someone who is your equal."

She swallowed back the hot, tight sensation in her throat. "Well, where am I going to find my equal? There's no one else like me, at least around here."

Only Rose was quiet throughout the argument. But when the others appealed to her, she finally broke her silence, and met Rey's eyes for the first time in days. "When the fighting started, I wished you were there. If you had arrived sooner, my sister might not have did. But if you hadn't been there before, no one would have been lost. If you really are such a target … maybe it would be better if you left."

"Rose!" Finn was shocked and angry.

Her gaze was hard, her mouth set in an unhappy frown. "I don't like it. But if you're willing, and think it's the right thing to do …"

Blinking back tears, Rey reached across the table and squeezed her hand, grateful and sorry. "I am. I do."

"But you don't have to actually leave," Finn argued.

Poe agreed: "We could make up a story, and stage your death. You could start over someplace far away."

But Rey shook her head. "I will need to spread the news of what I'm doing. That's why I need your help. If no one knows what's happened, people will still look for me. But Maz was pretty specific. You can come with me to the place—and others can come see me off if they want—but then you need to leave me there."

The arguing continued for a long time, but it was mostly one-sided. They begged her not to wait for whoever was supposed to come and claim her. But Rey's mind was made up. There would be no running away, no last-second escape. As frightened as she was—and seeing her friends react so strongly rekindled her fears—she was determined to go through with this.

"Please don't blame yourselves," she implored them. "I want this—for me, and for you."

"What about him?" Poe scowled.

Rey's hand gripped the edge of her chair, out of her friends' sight. "I don't care about him," she said blandly. She realized how unconvincing that sounded when she saw their skeptical expressions. "It doesn't matter if he's kind or cruel. I'll make the best of it."

"If you live that long," Zorii said darkly.

"Yes. If."

Finn sat down in defeat. "How soon?"

"We can take a day to tell people what's happening—and I'll give away what's left of my belongings. I'll go the morning after that. I can't risk staying longer." She looked around at each of her friends. "Will you please help me, one more time?"

Rose nodded, and looked pointedly at Finn. He, Poe, Kes, and Zorii all looked pained, but they reluctantly nodded too.

The next day, they spread out and visited the nearby settlements, spreading the story that the famous Force-sensitive girl was leaving forever. They each shared the truth, but to varying degrees. After that, word spread from mouth to mouth, and the details became muddied by each teller's memory and their audiences' speculation.

Rey made a final trip to her poor excuse for a house, and cleaned it of her personal belongings. There was no longer any point in her hoarding tools for scavenging or items to trade in the future.

She almost enjoyed giving away her few belongings. She decided to do so in Tuanul, since the village was still recovering from the attack. But when she told them what she planned to do, they were visibly disturbed, and the children were distressed. Rey excused herself before any of them could get caught up in emotion.

As night fell—her last night in this world she had grown up in—she took her speeder and went to the temple of the Skywalkers. It was customary, after all, for people to pray to the love gods before their wedding day. And if she ever needed their aid, now was the time.

It felt strange to be there without Lor San Tekka's steadfast presence. But aside from that, the temple was comfortingly familiar.

There, represented in statuary, were several successive generations of Jedi gods and the mortals they had loved. Rey could name each of the statues' subjects, as well as their stories: Qui-Gon and Shmi, Obi-Wan and Satine, Anakin and Padme, Leia and Han, Luke and Mara.

Each of the couples had endured trials and misadventures in order to find or save their love. Most of their stories ended with tragedy or mystery. Would Rey's story be like theirs?

She began to walk along the arc-shaped dais, offering a prayer to each deity individually. It was comforting to think of their stories of sacrifice and heroism, even if most of them were not quite analogous to her own situation. She asked them to lend her some of their courage.

She paused before the last statue, the one covered with black cloth. She thought about bypassing it altogether, but she hesitated and reconsidered.

For most of her life, Rey had only ever given Kylo Ren the minimal respect that any god deserved. His story had intrigued her as a child, but she had grown less sympathetic to him over time, and she had never given any more than was deemed necessary. She had offered enough prayers and sacrifices to appease him.

Right now, though, she needed all the help she could get. If there was ever a time to be in Kylo Ren's favor, she supposed, it was now.

She would not kneel or bow before him, but she spread her hands out in a gesture of supplication.

"Dread lord of love …" she began, continuing her formal manner of speaking; but then she dropped it. A god as callous as Kylo Ren would not want empty flattery. He would probably prefer harsh candor.

"You probably don't care about my problems," Rey acknowledged. "But … the stories say you know what it's like to feel cast out. If you can relate to that at all … if you can help me in any way … I would appreciate it. If you do, and if I live past tomorrow, I'll always remember it."

With that taken care of, Rey named each of the other Skywalkers, addressing all of them at once. "My fate is in your hands now. You're the patrons of love and freedom. I'm probably giving up any chance of having either of those things. I know it's the right thing to do … but I'm still scared. I don't know what will happen to me, or what I might have to do. Please, be with me. Help me be strong. Help me be brave. Help me to … do whatever I need to."

She hoped to hear some words, or sense some presence, as she had when she was a child. But there was nothing—no voice, no vision, no aura—no sign that anyone was listening, no indication that she had been heard.


When the morning came, Rey got up feeling like she was about to go into battle—one she had little chance of winning.

True to their words, her friends met her at the Damerons' house to see her off. Rose even helped with her outfit and her hair. They had altered the white dress Rose had worn for her wedding just a week earlier, combining it with some of Rey's nicest garments.

"If you're going to meet your groom," Rose said grimly, "you should at least try to look like a bride."

They tied half of Rey's hair back to keep it out of her face during the trek through the desert. It fell around her shoulders like a thin curtain. Looking in the mirror, Rey thought she looked rather pretty, but the thought only made her feel more emotional.

"Thank you, Rose," she said, almost whispering.

Rose bit her lip. "Rey, I want you to know … I don't blame you, personally, for what happened. What they did was not your fault. And it's not fair, what you're being forced to do now."

"No, it's not fair," Rey agreed, "but it is right."

They looked at each other with equal parts incomprehension and understanding. Rose shook her head. "You're a hero," she said, her voice choked. "Just like Paige. I'm—I hate to lose you both."

For the first time since Paige's death, Rey opened her arms and embraced her friend. Rose hugged her tightly, letting a few sobs escape; Rey tried to comfort her, though she hardly knew how. Finally, Rey pulled back, wiped Rose's tears away, and said, "Are you sure you want to come?"

Rose squared her shoulders. "I'm sure," she said with complete certainty. Rey nodded, and together they went into the main room.

Finn was pacing, while Poe was sitting on a chair, hunched forward with his arms resting on his knees. Kes Dameron was preparing food and containers of water for their journey.

Poe stood up when Rey and Rose walked in, and Finn stopped short at the sight of them. He pressed his hand to his mouth and fought back tears. "Rey …"

"Don't start crying," Rey warned. "If you do, then I will, and I can't—I have to do this."

"Will it make any difference if I tell you that you don't?"

"No."

"Dank ferrick." Finn turned away, swinging his fist absently as though looking for something to punch.

Kes Dameron cleared his throat. "Will you have something to eat before you go?"

Rey smiled, because that was just the sort of thing a parent would, and should, ask a young person. Of all the adults she had known growing up, Poe's father had been among the kindest. But she felt too nervous to eat, and she did not want to delay. "No, thank you. I'm ready to go now."

Not seeming to know what else to do, Kes came up and shook Rey's hand, the most respectful gesture he had ever made to her. He seemed to struggle to find words. "Rey—you've always been a good girl. I hate to see you go."

"Thank you, Mr. Dameron. You've always been kind to me—to all of us."

He nodded, released her hand, and said, "May the Force be with you."

"And with you." Rey turned to her friends and said, "I'm ready."

They exchanged glances, each of them reluctant but resigned. "We'll follow you," Finn said at last.

So Rey led the way out, with her bridal party behind her.

People were already waiting—in the square, along the walking paths, on either side of the roads—to see her off. Zorii Bliss and the members of the militia were among them. They were solemn, and looked at her in awe and sorrow, as though this were her funeral rather than her wedding day. For all they knew, it was all the same.

As Rey and her friends made their way out, more people lined up along the path to watch the procession. Some even followed, calling to their friends to come along. Different variations of the rumors continued to spread as the crowd grew.

"The Force-girl is getting married!"

"No, she's going to slay a monster!"

"She's going to marry a monster!"

"You mean she'll marry it and then kill it?"

"More likely it'll marry her and kill her!"

Rey tried to ignore what she heard, but she could not help wondering if they were onto something. If her husband-to-be was a monster, perhaps she could try to tame it. But Maz's description rang in her head. If even the gods feared this creature, who was she to think she could overpower it? She pushed the thought aside and trudged along.

The crowd followed them through the desert, growing larger all along the way. Everyone who saw Rey wanted to say goodbye in their own way. Many made signs of respect, bowing or saluting or placing their hands over their hearts. A few elders kissed her hands or the hem of her robes. Some teenage girls stepped forward and offered her flowers; she stopped to smell them, wondering if it would be the last time she did so, and then carried them in a bouquet. Children came up to hug her, some of them crying, and she bent down to wipe away their tears and kiss their foreheads.

"The people love you," Finn said truthfully.

Rey heard the implication of his words: would she really leave behind this adoration? Why seek out marital love when she was already so well loved by her friends and neighbors?

"I love them too," she said simply. "That's why I have to do this."

The procession paused when one person shouted louder than all the others, pushing his way through the crowd. "Rey! REY!"

It was a boy, not yet in his teen years, dressed like any other young urchin. It took Rey a moment to recognize him, and when she did, her heart clenched. "Temiri."

He grinned. "You remember?"

She smiled back nostalgically. "How could I forget? You changed my life."

His smile faded, and suddenly he looked much older than the little boy she remembered healing long ago. "Rey, you changed a lot of people's lives. You saved a lot of lives. You could still do that if—"

"I am doing that," Rey interrupted. "At least, I have to try. One more time."

Temiri did not protest, but from that point on he marched alongside her, as though escorting her. Rey was glad for his company: he had been there at the beginning of her journey, and it was fitting that he should be there at the end.

As they walked, a few people pointed out something unusual: there were clouds in the sky, a rare and precious sight in the desert. A few people murmured that it was a good omen: if the girl was being given as a sacrifice, perhaps the gods would not only spare them more suffering, but also bless them with rainfall. At any rate, it gave them a reprieve from the sun during the miles-long walk to their destination.

The Plaintive Hand Plateau was considered a sacred place—the kind that few people dares to visit. Lor San Tekka had taught Rey and other pupils about its history. Tradition said it was once home to a consecrated anchorite, who had either lived there an extraordinarily long time, or inspired the imitation of disciples who came there for the same purpose. It was unclear how many anchorites had gone there over the generations, resolving to leave the world behind and seek the divine. However many there were, it was generally agreed that this was the site of their deaths—or perhaps their passages into the Force; their bodies were never found.

Rey wondered if it was where she would die, and what would happen to her body when she did.

Most of the crowd had to stop at the base of the cliff. A weather-worn rope ladder led up to the plateau, about a hundred meters off the ground.

Poe approached first, and Rey realized he was armed, a blaster in his holster and a knife strapped to his arm. "We'll go up first—see if it's safe."

While he and Finn climbed up, Rey turned to Temiri. She put her hand on his shoulder and adjusted his cap. "Goodbye, friend."

"Thanks for everything, Rey—from all of us," he said quietly. The others murmured in agreement.

Rey nodded to them, taking in the sight of her followers one last time. "Goodbye, everyone. And thank you." Then, she turned and climbed up the ladder, with Rose coming up behind her. The ladder seemed to become more frayed with each person who used it.

Someone was already waiting at the top of the plateau: the oracle herself, Maz Kanata. Finn and Poe glared at her, mistrusting and accusatory; but Rey was almost relieved to see her, and knelt down before her. Maz made a strange gesture over her, a kind of blessing so ancient that none of them knew exactly what it meant. Then she turned to Rey's friends and said, "The time has come."

The four friends looked at each other, unable or unwilling to say goodbye.

"Here, Rey—take these." Poe held out his blaster and knife.

Rey shook her head. "No—no weapons."

"Right." Poe returned them to his pockets. "I guess you don't need them when you've got the Force, right?"

Rey said nothing, only pursed her lips.

"You will fight off anyone who tries to hurt you, right?" Finn pressed.

"You know what?" Her voice came out sounding frustrated and exasperated. "I am tired of fighting."

"Rey," more than one person started to say.

She held up a hand to silence them. "You have to go now. I don't know what will happen, but I know it's for me alone." She looked at each of them in turn. "Thank you for coming with me this far."

They all moved to hug her, and they could not hold back their tears and sobs as they held her. Rey wondered if she would ever feel this safe and loved again.

Finally, Maz ushered her friends back to the ladder. They each gave Rey one last look before reluctantly climbing down. Maz was the last to go, and when she had reached the ground again, the top of the rope ladder finally disintegrated. The rest of it fell to the ground, crumbling into dust.

Rey was now stranded on the mesa. She knelt down near the edge and peeked down to see her friends, looking back up at her in dismay. She held up one arm in a gesture of reassurance and farewell. But that did not stop many onlookers from shouting, even wailing, calling for someone to bring her a means of escape. But Rey shouted down at them: "Go! I'll be alright! Please, leave me." It went against her deepest desire to ask such a thing, but she had to.

On the ground, Maz sounded a similar call. Seeing that there was nothing more to be done, people began to turn away. Rey's closest friends were the last to leave her, waving their arms one last time. Then Finn hugged Rose, and they started walking away, arm in arm. Rey watched until they were too far away for her eyes to see distinctly in the vastness of the desert.

It was only when she was alone that her emotions caught up with her. Perhaps some gods had pitied her enough to bless her with numbness over the past few hours. Now, she finally allowed herself to cry openly, her emotions swirling in a confusion of fear, grief, guilt, reproach, and bitterness.

She thought about the anchorites who had lived and died in this spot. It was hard for her to understand a desire for loneliness. Had they been happy while they were isolated here? Had they ever been tempted to throw themselves off the cliff, to end their suffering?

Rey banished that thought as soon as it entered her head. Whatever her fate was, she needed to let it come, not try to stop it before it happened.

One way or another, a part of her was about to die. Even if her life was not ending, life as she knew it was ending. Even though she had longed for something more, it was hard to leave behind what was familiar, especially when she had no idea what she was moving toward.

If it was the end of her life, she hoped it would be quick and painless. She dared not hope for better.

The only significant feature on the plateau was a large stone in the center. Its topmost surface was flat, like a natural chair or table. Rey sat down on it, settling in to wait.

She had to wonder how her husband-to-be would get there, now that the ladder was gone. Would he have another way to reach the top? Despite her apprehension about meeting him, she hoped she would not have to wait terribly long.

Rey had thought she knew the stillness of the desert, but it was even greater here. Only the occasional wind made any sound or movement.

She watched the sky darken with clouds, and did not know whether to be grateful or worried about them. They shielded her from the midday sun, which otherwise would have burned her skin; but being exposed to a rainstorm would also be unpleasant and possibly dangerous.

The clouds also made it more difficult to track the passage of time. She was not sure whether she had been there for minutes, or hours. She was beginning to feel faint—probably resulting from the combination of her heightened emotions, the thin air at this altitude, and not eating anything that day.

With no other recourse, Rey began to pray, repeating her petition to the Skywalkers: Be with me.

Suddenly, she heard a new sound, like thick fabric snapping in a strong wind. Then, footsteps, heavy but careful, deliberate.

Someone had made it onto the plateau. That someone was coming up behind her.

Before she could decide what to do, someone spoke her name. "Rey." The voice was mechanical, like someone speaking through a machine. Despite this, she could hear in his tone how pleased the speaker was. "I'm so glad you came."

Rey did not move. Perhaps it was childish, but at this moment she was so afraid she did not want to look at him. If she could not see him, he might not be real after all. But he circled the rock, and came to stand in her line of vision. When she finally saw him, she nearly gasped, and barely remembered to breathe.

It was a tall bipedal figure, dressed entirely in black. Its head was head covered by a helmet with a metallic mask and a scarf wrapped like a hood. A long cloak hung from its shoulders. Every aspect of the creature—its size, the color of its clothes, the strength of its posture—made it look menacing. The mask made its gaze appear cold, like ice.

He spoke again, his tone soft and gentle. "Don't be afraid." He held out his hand, covered by a leather glove, and Rey understood that he wanted her to put her hand in his. When she did not, he verbalized his intention: "Come home with me."

"Who are you?"

After the briefest of pauses, he answered frankly: "Someone who loves you."

That answer, vague yet enormous in its implications, brought dozens of questions to Rey's mind, but all she could gasp out was, "How … why …?"

Instead of trying to explain, he stepped forward. "We can't stay here." He sounded urgent, almost agitated, but his words remained coaxing. "I've prepared a place for you. I've come to take you home."

"Where is that? How will we get there?"

Instead of answering her question, he said, "I know this all must seem strange, but I need you to trust me." He held out his hand once more.

Rey did not move. Her eyes darted from his hand to his mask, and back to his hand. What if taking his hand willingly had some binding magical effect, like in a folk tale?

He extended his hand further, stepping closer again. When he spoke again, his tone betrayed some impatience, but also a kind of earnestness. "Rey, you came this far with nothing but courage and hope. Don't turn back now."

This plea confused her. Did she still have a choice, even now? Could she go back? Would he bring her back if she asked? No, she told herself. That would endanger everyone. She had to see this through, whatever it was.

He came so close, his outstretched hand was just inches away from her. "Rey, I promise no harm will come to you as long as you're with me."

Rey had no idea whether to believe him, but she would have to take that chance.

She slowly lifted her hand, which trembled until it touched his steady palm. His fingers quickly curled around her hand, grasping it firmly, and pulled upward, indicating that she should rise.

She tried to stand, but the movement made her dizzy, and after sitting in the same position for so long, her legs gave out when she tried to put her weight on them. The hooded creature caught her in his arms, pulling her to his chest, and once she was there, he held on to her. She instinctively tensed and shrank in on herself, as though she could protect herself from that massive body.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

The kind, concerned question surprised and embarrassed her. She tried to apologize, but her words came out as a whimper.

He hushed her and held her close, his hand coming up to support her head. "Don't worry. You're safe now." He knelt slowly, lowering her to the ground and adjusting her in his arms. When she was secure there, he simply held her, bending over as though to shield her.

"Whatever you have to do," she murmured, "do it quickly."

"Don't worry." His mechanical voice was hardly louder than a whisper. "I'll take care of you." It was the first time Rey could remember anyone saying that to her. Did he know how much she had longed for someone to say that, to do that? Could he sense how much she wanted to believe it? Perhaps so, because he held her closer, tighter, and added a new vow: "I'll take care of everything."

She would not open her eyes, but after a few moments, she relaxed slightly, breathing a little more easily. It was easier to believe in safety when she could not see her surroundings or her company. But she still winced when his gloved hand moved from the back of her head to her face, the leather brushing against her temple, and then ghosting over her forehead. "You did well, brave one. Rest now."

Rey's last observation was how warm she felt after the cold chill of the mountain air, and how gentle his touch was. Her last conscious thought was the realization that, for the first time in weeks, she felt safe.


Some mortals had a quaint tradition associated with the entrances of buildings. When a newly married couple entered their home for the first time, the groom carried the bride in his arms as he crossed the threshold. In some cultures, this action was an essential part of sealing the marriage covenant, making them officially a husband and wife.

Kylo Ren could not help reflecting on this custom, partly amused and somewhat wistful, during his journey. He was carrying his bride to the place that would be their home, and he could easily walk through the front door, though it might be easier to fly through the window. But she was unconscious, and would not remember entering their home, or being carried through the sky. He had thought it best that she not be awake for the journey, since his method of travel might frighten her. She was already in a frightening enough situation without it.

Kylo Ren had to wonder which of them was more afraid, and whose fear posed a greater problem.

He was an immortal being with powers most could scarcely imagine. But all of his hope for happiness depended on Rey's response to him.

Long ago, he had tried in vain to impress his family. What if he failed again, this time with Rey? What if he could not win her over?

There would still be the darts … but he would not consider that now. He had a chance to earn her genuine love, and he intended to make the most of it.

When he had heard Rey's petition the night before, he had to hold himself back from answering her, audibly or telepathically. Approaching her at that moment might have ruined his plan—if she heard him then, she might recognize his voice later. There was already a slim chance she might find it familiar; he could only hope that her memory of the voice she heard as a child had faded over time.

After watching her from a distance for so long, it was satisfying to finally hold her, to support her weight and feel the shape of her body cradled against his own. Her expression in this induced slumber was eerily blank, neither troubled nor peaceful. He hoped the motion of their flight would soothe her after such a distressing few days.

Kylo Ren had thought he might feel triumphant, like a victorious warrior or a conquering king, after claiming his bride. But while he felt immense joy and anticipation, he also felt a great weight of responsibility, holding the person he loved most. He carried his burden like a nurse watching over their charge, or a servant conveying a treasure, careful and humble and resolute. He was certain he had never held anything so precious in his life—not even the powerful elixir for which he was infamous could compare. He wanted to bring her to a place of safety, but at the same time he never wanted to relinquish her from his arms.

He had planned to stay by her side, to be there when she woke and personally show her around their home. But as he approached their destination, he wondered if that was such a good idea. Rey had been terrified by the sight of him. His continued presence might keep her on edge. Maybe it would be better to let her be alone for a while, to relax and acquaint herself with the place, before they spent time together.

Upon arriving at the house, he came to land in the courtyard and placed her carefully on a divan with pillows. That way when she woke, she would be outdoors, so she would not feel trapped like an animal or a prisoner; but she would still be safe in her own dwelling, protected by its ancestral enchantments.

For a few moments, Kylo Ren remained kneeling next to her, studying her sleeping form. Her hair was in some disarray from the wind, but in his love-addled eyes, that only added to her charm. Even her strange outfit, a beggarly excuse for a wedding dress, made her seem beautiful.

It was admittedly ironic: he was the immortal one, yet he felt a kind of helplessness when he looked at her, as though she were a goddess and he a humble worshiper. He would have been content to do nothing but gaze at her for the rest of eternity. But he was resolved to deny himself that pleasure for the present, while he hoped for much more in the future.

He allowed himself one indulgence for now. He removed his helmet, bent over, and kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger on her soft skin—the first time their flesh made direct contact. Drawing back, he whispered in her ear: "I'll come back to you, sweetheart." At this, she began to stir. He stood up, backed away, and took to the sky before she could see him.


Author's Notes:

This month is an interesting anniversary: it's five years since The Last Jedi came out, which pulled me into the Star Wars fandom, sparked my interest in mythology, and launched a new era in my fan fiction career!

It was really difficult deciding whether or not to have Rey see a masked Kylo either in the prophecy scene or during this part of the story. I decided to have her see him in his "hidden" form because that will allow them to do a lot more together. I didn't use another character for the role of Zephyr because I don't think Kylo would trust anyone else to help him or keep his secret.

The Plaintive Hand Plateau is mentioned in the Aftermath trilogy by Chuck Wendig. I haven't read those books (yet), but when I came across that name, it was too perfect not to use in a Reylo story.

I'm not sure whether to cite all the references contained in this, or to leave it up to you readers to figure out. I'm sure you Star Wars fans recognized the reference to Han and Leia's reunion in Return of the Jedi, which was mashed-up with Orpheus and Eurydice's introduction in Hadestown by Anais Mitchell. But I also alluded to a few different lines from the Gospel of John. Let me know what you think, if you want this to remain a mystery or be clearly spelled out!