A/N: Happy 2021! If you're enjoying this story, [shameless plug begins] I have another fic I started in December. 'Pivot' features Kylo Ren and Rey, and is looking for a bit of love (and readership). I'm curious if I was able to pull off Ben's alter ego in a believable way and would be grateful for feedback :).
Chapter V – Pangs of Hope
Ben resumed his study, at a loss for what else to contribute. Rey was more than self-sufficient – her proclamation she needed him at her side seemed kind at best. She had procured them a sturdy hatched door at the first stall they'd visited, exchanging vague but friendly pleasantries with the female kessurian selling all manner of stone and earthen wares as she'd reserved it. Rey's features were a mask of rapport, easily trusted, and the proprietor of the next market shop they popped into was just as disarmed.
The reptilian crocin inside, selling trinkets and baubles she immediately gravitated towards, was completely infatuated in fact. Ben watched him stare at her through the thick goggles he wore to protect his light-sensitive eyes from the harsh, desert glare, grinding his teeth as the man's tone edged dangerously close to flirtatious.
"You have fine tastes, madam," he crooned, cupping his three-taloned hands together. "Our minds seem as one."
Rey gifted him an absent smile, fingering a glittering wind chime longingly. Ben crowded close, resisting the urge to slide an arm around her waist only because he worried she would push it away.
The crocin's toothy snout turned down in his race's version of a frown at their proximity. "Does your brother also like my wares?" He tried, testing the status in a bid so obvious Ben almost cringed on his behalf.
Rey shook her head before Ben could interject with a correction. "He's not my brother," her hand left the chime, brushing his knuckles curled down into a fist at his side.
He took a risk, unclenching his fist and turning his palm, ensnaring her fingers in his.
The crocin's snout lowered further as he spotted the action. "Ah. I see," adjusting his goggles, he shifted attention to a latest object atop his counter, spindly bits hanging precariously from its rounded sides.
Rey allowed Ben to keep his clasp as she wandered deeper into the shop, and he made no attempt to hide his vindication. The owner focused on fixing the device before him, inwardly admitting the ugly, territorial male had already staked claim. Why such interest was honored was beyond him, but terrans were always such fickle creatures. It came from their little blunted teeth and lack of protective scales – defenselessness made them unstable.
They browsed for a few more minutes, Rey roaming over items varying from plain practicality to whimsical decoration. She would head for a replacement gasket, or a sonic tool, dragging Ben along, before catching sight of a marbled pin, or a string of feathers and shells. He noted each that drew her eye, filling in a new corner of the mental picture he was creating of her.
There'd been no room in Rey's existence for extraneous frivolity. He was witnessing a most intimate thing, an indulgence of hope she rarely allowed herself. Her skimming touch lighted on a little pile of irregularly-shaped beads for a moment, before sailing on, and Ben felt honored to be privy to this private envisioning – a new life where wind chimes and brightly-colored bolts covered walls simply because she wanted them there.
He hesitated in front of a small slip of brilliantly blue cloth, picking it up with his free hand. Rey felt resistance in their joined contact and looked back.
Ben held up the scrap, turning it in the light filtering in from boarded windows. Glinting silver thread had been stitched into it, as if it'd once been part of a larger piece, a scarf or dress perhaps.
"Do you like it?" He extended it out to her, and Rey stared at the tattered bit of blue like it was a new blade inscribed in ancient Sith. Humoring brief flares of hope didn't mean she actually planned on entertaining them, he decided.
She bobbed her way through a nod. "Very pretty," she mumbled.
Ben closed his hand around it. "Let's get it."
Rey balked, but he'd already swiveled on his heel towards the counter.
Rey felt like everyone they passed was staring at her wrist, the newly-acquired cloth tied around it, a veritable beacon of opulence and vanity. Ben seemed immeasurably pleased, mouth twitching up at the corners every time he glanced her way.
The little outpost they'd selected as a temporary home was near the only space port of note on Carajam, Danan Karr. After returning to check on the Guardian and grabbing a few last supplies she'd left behind, her staff most notable among them, they were strolling through dust filled paths, taking stock of residents and businesses alike.
Without striking any conscious accord, they'd left their bond open, allowing thoughts and feelings to flow freely between them.
Ben's smug satisfaction in her head mystified, and her confusion only seemed to magnify it.
No one is looking at your wrist, he assured mentally. Stop worrying about it.
I'll worry about whatever I want, she returned, the words crisp. Thank you very much.
Amusement warmed the back of her neck like a settled palm. Have a lot of experience with gifts from men, huh? Especially ones so costly?
Rey frowned as they passed a pair of rodians, huddled close in conversation. You're making fun of me. The blue remnant had been almost nothing, even by her pinch-thrift standards.
He sobered. No. Never.
Rey's frown deepened, creasing her forehead, and she started closing off her side of the link.
Ben halted with a jerk and snatched up her elbow, whirling around to face her. "Don't," he uttered. "Please. I'm sorry."
Rey searched his expression for hints of ridicule. "What's so funny then?"
A sadness stole his gaze. With a glance at the rodians, he pulled her away, into an alley between two earth-packed buildings. She wrenched her arm from his grasp, clutching it to her chest protectively.
He surveyed the area, securing their solitude. "You're the bravest person I've ever met," he started. "Yet you're jittery over a little frayed scrap?"
"I-I'm not—."
Ben sent her images of the crocin's shop, laced with his interpretations. How the cloth carried hope too private and fragile to aim for yet. Rey stamped the butt of her staff into sand, piqued his observations were so on the nose.
"Pfft," she scoffed. "I can do that too, you know," she allowed him to see how she'd viewed the same scene, how jealousy had contorted the lines of his face, and he'd grabbed her hand to make it clear they weren't related.
Ben spluttered. "I was NOT threatened by that overgrown alligator—."
"You can dish it out, but not take it, eh Solo?"
He fumed. His next words came in an accusing rush, thickening her attempt at teasing with tension. "You don't have to be so insufferably friendly to everyone you meet, Rey," he groused. "It can send the wrong message, give mixed signals. I was just looking out for you."
Rey rolled her eyes. "I look out for myself just fine."
"Not enough to allow yourself a lone emblem of color."
Irritation spiked in her. "I don't want to be doted on, Ben," she shot back. "I want a peer, an equal."
He didn't want to fight, but a comeback was already leaving his lips. "You have those already. Your little Resistance friends," Ben felt a familiar sneer pull at his mouth. "I'm nothing like them, and won't pretend to offer what they do."
"What? Comradery? Trust? Respect?"
Ben swept a hand through his hair in frustration. "Are those all you want from me? Impotent, platonic gestures?"
Rey jolted. Where was this coming from? Stupid gift! Opening up a sarlacc pit at her feet! "You talk like they aren't important," she said.
He heaved a gusty sigh. "You already have them from me. My being here should prove that."
His honesty was making odd things flutter in her chest. "I-I just don't want you dictating how I treat others," she stammered. "Acting like I'm property you own."
"Don't dramatize my words," he countered. " And if there's any ownership, it extends both ways. Can't you see that?"
Rey wasn't ready for this – tumbled admissions in some random, dirty street. She crossed her arms, crushing her staff against her as she retreated back several paces. "We should head back and retrieve the door," she glanced at the horizon over her shoulder. The sun was still high in the sky, so the excuse of fleeting daylight wouldn't help her here.
Ben closed the space she'd just made, looming over her. "Did we kiss in the temple?" He asked as if she hadn't tried changing the subject. "Or did I imagine it?"
Whatever protest Rey thought he'd broach, dropping mention of Exegol hadn't been on her radar.
She whipped up to an angry glare. "What?"
"Did we?!" He demanded, edging forward until their chests almost touched.
"Yes. So?"
Fury sparked his eyes. "So?" The word was choked in clenched teeth. "Was it simply because I'd saved you?"
Rey uncrossed her arms, pushing him back. "Of course not!"
"So then I should be able to give you a token to wear!" Ben nearly snarled. "Without it starting an argument!"
She dropped her chin, staring at their dusty boots. Response escaped her, so she filtered emotions back into their bond, a cocktail of bewilderment, anxiety, and the unnamed flutter that had risen to her throat.
Ben sifted through them, letting his temper cool. It would take a lifetime on Carajam before he'd fathom all the intricacies of the woman before him. Maybe two.
