This is a requested prompt that I didn't want to fill until I'd seen The Last Jedi, because I felt like I didn't have a good feel for Rey. There are slight spoilers ahead in this one, but nothing huge. My own take on a scene in the movie...
Sometimes she fancies herself a real woman. Well, not real as in proper, because who's to say what a proper woman should look like or be? No, not in that sense, but there are times when she wishes she had been born with a Name. Yes, with a capital 'N'. A name that mattered.
Not a name with a little 'n'. A nobody.
Those moments are rare, because upon reflection, she always realizes that she doesn't really want that. She doesn't want the standing, or a title, or a special position on some important planet. She wouldn't know what to do with something like that.
But every now and then she wonders what it would be like to have that. To be looked at and not just glanced over.
"Heels." The word makes her laugh. Chewie looks at her like she's gone crazy, but she only nods at her hairy companion. "Heels. Don't you think all women of standing wear heels? Isn't it a requirement? A qualification of some sort?"
He only grunts in reply before nodding towards the viewport. Most of the window reveals open water in shades that imply severe depth, but towards the left there appears to be a cluster of scraggly islands, tall, jagged, and imposing.
That's where Luke Skywalker has exiled himself. These tiny specks of land out in the middle of literally nowhere. This man with a Name has apparently tried to turn himself into a nobody. He should really know better, she thinks. Men born with Names are born with responsibility. There's no disappearing from that. Much better to be born a nobody and have the choice.
Right?
A glance to her right shows that Chewie is looking at her like he's guessed her train of thought and finds it horribly depressing. She frowns at him. "Shut up."
He growls something at her that she can't decipher.
"Whatever."
The larger the islands grow, the harder the knot in her stomach gets. When they finally set the Falcon down, she decides that heels are ridiculous inventions that no Jedi should ever have to suffer wearing. She doubts any Jedi has ever worn them. How on earth could a lady possibly use a lightsaber properly while trying to balance on a pair of stilettos? And she will be a Jedi, or something like one. Not a woman who has to dress up, make inspiring statements, and wear a mask along with her pair of impossibly pointed footwear.
She finds him standing on a cliff, facing away from her. This man with a Name so large that he can't possibly hope to hide. For a moment, she thinks him incredibly stupid. Then he turns around and all she can think is, heels.
Metaphorically speaking of course, because a man that looks that worn, that haunted, and that rough around the edges would never wear an actual pair of heels. But perhaps he had been trapped by his circumstances just the same.
This is Luke Skywalker? She stares at him, utterly confused, yet still hopeful. He looks… small. Except for his eyes, which look like they've seen much and want to unsee most of it. His eyes look right. Like the stories describe him.
Other than that, she sees a trapped Jedi who wants to forget. And she suddenly feels a little bad because she's going to force him to remember all of it. Slowly, she takes out the lightsaber and holds it out to him, hoping beyond hope that he'll take it and turn back into the legend that she was sent to find. She didn't come here for a washed-out Jedi who, at some point in his wacky exile, chose to put on a pair of restricting metaphorical heels.
Right now you're just a story that inspires, she thinks. I need you to be real!
He takes the lightsaber and she dares to breath.
Then, with a glare that freezes her solid while simultaneously making her shudder from her feet to her ears, he tosses the sacred weapon over his shoulder where it plummets over the side of the cliff.
Something inside of her shrivels up and attempts to die, but then she steels herself and glares after his receding form. No. Luke Skywalker he may be, but she won't be intimidated by this version of the man.
I won't let you run from this.
She follows him and bangs on the door of the shoddy hut he's holed himself up in, but he doesn't reply or come out. For the next few days, she follows him around and bangs on his door some more. Luke Skywalker refuses to acknowledge her presence, let alone respond. He doesn't ever speak, though the haunted, slightly wild looks he sometimes graces her with say more than enough.
At some point, on day two or three or maybe it's earlier, she returns to the Falcon and shoots Chewie a pointed, sizzling, and truly nasty look.
"Heels should be outlawed," she declares.
Chewie wisely remains quiet, though he does nod. He understands perfectly and completely agrees with the girl, but she doesn't know this and she doesn't understand enough Shyriiwook for him to attempt to explain. There are many words in his native tongue that mean 'broken' and she wouldn't pick up on the nuanced depth of the one he wants to use.
So he doesn't bother.
Eventually Luke decides to break his silence and they're off and running.
But Rey still can't look at the man without thinking, Heels.
And Chewie still can't look at the girl without wanting her to simply understand.