A/N: PLEASE read the note on Chapter 5 if you're following email updates for this story and you're confused about why you may seem to be getting the same content twice. Chapter 5 is now totally different, and I apologize for the mix-up! (I also kinda-sorta apologize in advance for the cliffhanger in this chapter.)
"Men's evil deeds live in brass; their virtues we write in water."
—William Shakespeare, Henry VIII, Act 4
Rey felt the horrified betrayal of her fellow rebels as she made her way to the Command Center. They'd seen her emerge from the Falcon with Kylo Ren behind her—and not just behind her, but holding his hand. And the ones who'd been close enough had undoubtedly heard what she said to him before they dragged him away.
"I love you." She sent the declaration through the Bond again and again, fast and pleading and insistent. "I love you so much. I'm fighting for you. Don't let anything they do or say to you make you forget that. I love you, and I'll come see you as soon as I can…"
She only received a sense of warm, tender reassurance in reply—but it was enough. She couldn't sense where they were taking him or what they might be doing to him, but the fact that he was able to project that kind of encouragement soothed her. She'd know if he was wrestling with darker, more dangerous thoughts.
Finn and Rose, thankfully, stayed on either side of her, shielding her from any comments or too-vicious glares with sharp, defiant looks of their own. Finn even kept one hand on Rey's shoulder blade, propelling her forward at a quick pace. She was keenly aware of her battered appearance, and just as aware of Lando, Chewie, Jannah, and even BB-8 and D-O right behind her. There could be no doubt that she—and they—had a wild story to tell.
Still, as she entered the sterile chill of the Base Headquarters and hurried down the corridors to the Command Center where, just a few days ago, Leia Organa-Solo had reigned supreme, a shiver of fear ran down her spine. The Resistance's leaders, too, hurried in, shutting the doors behind them to keep the outside turmoil at bay long enough for this important briefing.
Possibly the most important post-battle briefing this room is ever gonna see, Rey thought.
"All right," Poe called out over the clipped chatter filling the room. He still had his pilot's helmet under his arm, and Rey suddenly realized he looked very, very tired. "Never thought this would be the first thing we'd be discussing after the biggest victory the Resistance has had in the past seven years, but here we are. I don't even know where to start…"
"Then let her start," Maz Kanata cried, thrusting a small, wizened, orange hand in Rey's direction. "And don't make any snap judgments until you hear it from her own lips, Flyboy!"
"Yeah, well, it's hard to keep from making snap judgments after she takes His Royal Broodiness' goddamned TIE fighter and leaves the rest of us high and dry on Kef Bir," Poe snapped, dark eyes locking fiercely on Rey. Finn inhaled sharply and took a step forward, but Rey laid a hand on his arm and shook his head.
"Don't, Finn," she murmured. "He's right. I was…I wasn't really in my right mind when I did that. I am so, so sorry, Poe. I should never have left you, but…I'd just found out something truly horrible about myself and I…I was so afraid that I would be putting you and Finn in danger…"
Poe tossed his helmet onto a nearby table. "What could you possibly have learned about yourself that would put the rest of us in danger? You're a Jedi—our Jedi—!"
"And I am also a Palpatine," Rey snapped, "so where does that fit in?"
Horrified gasps rippled through the commanding ranks of the Resistance. Poe's mouth fell open; Commander D'Acy's eyes widened; one of Leia's other right-hand men, Commander Siren, almost dropped his helmet. Connix clapped a hand over her mouth. Rey exhaled, held her head high…and brought a hand to rest on Luke Skywalker's lightsaber.
"By blood, I am a Palpatine," she said, her voice gaining strength and clarity. "But by choice—my choice—I am a Skywalker. I am a Jedi, and I do serve the Light, no matter who my grandfather was or what he wanted me to do. You do not have to be afraid of me, and I know now that I don't have to be afraid of myself. The Jedi are with me—they helped me destroy Palpatine once and for all—and the fact that we're all here and the Final Order lies in ruins on Exegol should be proof enough of that."
"You mean to tell me," Poe said slowly, "that that creep was biologically capable of—"
"Those are questions and stories for another time, Dameron," Maz interrupted. "Tell us about the young man you brought home with you."
Rey nodded, grateful (and not for the first time, either) for Maz's unrelenting focus on the important things. She told the room what happened on Kef Bir—how she'd stabbed Kylo Ren and how they'd both sensed Leia's death as soon as she did. As soon as she mentioned Leia's passing, Rey noticed downcast eyes and even a few trembling lips. Her own grief hit her again, but she shoved it to the side; she'd have time to mourn later.
"I didn't know then what that would do to Kylo Ren," she admitted. "I went to Ach-To, believing I'd be better off in isolation than putting you in danger through my association with Palpatine. But Luke Skywalker appeared to me, and told me I had to face the Emperor. I was able to reach Exegol…and just as the Emperor threatened me with the worst possible fate…Ben Solo came for me."
"Ben Solo," a young woman—the exiled Queen Erienn of Crestir, Rey remembered—repeated slowly. "Not Kylo Ren?"
"No," Rey said, unable to keep a soft smile off her face. "It was Ben Solo, through and through. I could feel it in the Force. We were able to fight Palpatine together until he…"
She hesitated, her mind racing over whether or not to mention how Palpatine had drained the power of the Dyad to regenerate himself. The Dyad was still so new to her. If she still barely understood it, would they?
"He drained our life forces to energize himself," she finally decided to say. It's not really a lie—in fact, it's true from a certain point of view. "He threw Ben down a chasm and left me for dead…but the Jedi came to me and gave me the strength to defeat him once and for all."
"So Palpatine is gone?" Poe demanded. "Gone for good?"
"Yes," Rey said firmly. "I don't know about his followers, though. They were there, too, but I'm still not sure if they were physically there. We may have still have plenty of Sith acolytes to deal with."
"Well, we still have what remains of the First Order to deal with, too, so what's a few more Sith-lords?" Poe deadpanned. "So you defeated Palpatine, and then you two lovebirds hopped aboard the Falcon?"
Rey bristled at his sarcasm, but tamped down on it quickly. "No. I died."
The room went absolutely silent. Even BB-8's soft whirring at her feet died down.
"I died," Rey murmured, "and Ben Solo brought me back to life. And then he died…"
"Dead as a doornail," Finn offered behind her.
"…and the Jedi brought him back," Rey finished. "Kylo Ren is dead, but Ben Solo is alive. He is so alive. They wouldn't have brought him back if he wasn't worthy of a second chance! This is how we win! By him turning to the Light and giving us more information about the First Order than the Resistance has ever had, we can shift the tide of the entire war—"
"That's all very well and good," Commander D'Acy snapped, "but Ben Solo made the choice to become Kylo Ren. He's got the blood of millions on his hands, including the blood of his own father. You may be willing to shove all that under the rug, Master Rey, but I am not."
"I'm not shoving it under the rug, Commander," Rey shot back fiercely. "I agree with you—wholeheartedly—that he must answer for Kylo Ren. It would be cruel to deny the Galaxy justice! I know how much we have all suffered and I'm not asking anyone to simply forgive and forget!"
"I'm sensing a 'but' here," Poe grumbled.
Rey looked at him, hard and stern. "Yes, there's a 'but' here, because we are the Resistance. We uphold justice, yes—but we also believe in freedom, and goodness, and redemption! How many of us here have done things we aren't proud of? How many of you left the First Order after finally realizing it stood for all that was cruel and evil in the Galaxy? How many of us have criminal backgrounds? How many of us came from…from nothing… and were finally given a chance to become heroes in our own right?"
A few gazes dropped to the floor; a few of the rebels shuffled uncomfortably. Poe's defensive stance relaxed…a little. Maz's eyes shone behind her oversized glasses.
"I'm not asking you to forget what Kylo Ren did," Rey said, softening her tone. "His own mother wouldn't have asked you to."
Poe looked up at that. She met his gaze steadily, hopefully…gently.
"But I think Leia would've also asked you to hear his story," she continued. "Ben Solo's turn to the Darkness didn't happen in a vacuum anymore than his turn back to the Light did. She would've wanted you to ask why he would've risked everything to help us defeat Palpatine…and she would've begged you to consider why she and Luke and the rest of the Jedi would've sent him back from the dead just so he could die again!"
"He has to be punished," Commander D'Acy hissed through her teeth.
"But not by execution," Lando cut in, assuming a position next to Rey. "The boy is more valuable to you alive than dead. He's got more insight into the inner workings of the First Order than you'd ever get from any spy. He could also be a rallying point for anyone who's been too afraid to turn against them. Shape the narrative, D'Acy. Stop seeing him for just a second as Kylo Ren, and think about how the son of Leia Organa could turn the tide for us."
D'Acy said nothing, but the twitch under her eye told Rey that maybe—just maybe—the words had gone home. Poe rubbed his upper lip with his thumb.
"Okay," he said, the word a long and heavy sigh. "Okay…we'll take him in. I don't want a word of this getting off Ajan Kloss until we've figured out how and when and where we're gonna try him, and I definitely don't want him wandering around unless he's under heavy guard…or with Rey."
She shot him a surprised, hopeful look. He glanced away.
"Commander D'Acy," he said, "get together with some of our more politically-astute comrades and figure out how to plan a trial and set up a military tribunal. Your Majesty—" this was directed towards Queen Erienn "—you can help her with that. Commander Siren, put the Base on information lockdown for the next forty-eight hours. No mention of Kylo Ren or Ben Solo gets off this moon until I've approved it first."
"Yes, sir," Commander Siren said.
"And Rey…" Poe turned to her again, and her heart swelled in relief at the much gentler look in his dark eyes. "Sorry about…y'know."
Rey smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, too. If there's—"
But a sudden clap of thunder in her own head cut her off. She gasped, staggered. Finn and Rose both caught her. Poe unfolded his arms and rushed towards her, alarm flashing across his face.
"Rey!" Rose cried. "What is it?"
Rey felt it again—another blow, loud as thunder, and a searing wave of pain. But this time it was followed by the slamming of a door. Not a physical door…but a mental, emotional one.
The only other time she'd felt that, she had been the one to slam the door. On Crait…when she saw Ben Solo gazing up at her, pleadingly, through the eyes of a kneeling Kylo Ren…
"Where is he?" she gasped. "Where did they take him?!"
Poe blinked, terror building in his eyes. "I-I told them to put him in the brig—"
Rey didn't wait for anymore information: she took off running, Finn, Rose, Poe, and Lando pounding after her.
"Ben, I'm coming! What's wrong?! OPEN THE DOOR, BEN, PLEASE!"
Ben had kept his eyes fixed straight ahead while his guards escorted him to the brig. Making eye contact with any of the rebels they passed, he figured, would either intimidate or infuriate. Better to maintain a stony expression for now. He was good at that; he'd had seven years to practice keeping the emotion out of his face.
It was harder now, though. The muscles in his face kept relaxing every time he refocused his thoughts on Rey. Her smile, her eyes, those dimples in her cheeks, the freckles on her nose, her hair, her kiss…
A new wave of peace washed over him as he remembered the way she'd nuzzled her head under his chin and murmured her love for him in the Falcon medbay. He didn't deserve her love—he knew that quite well—but he had every ounce of it, and she most certainly claimed all of his.
Let me be worthy of her, he prayed as the guards led him down a corridor so narrow, it didn't even allow three men to walk abreast (especially with one of them being as tall and broad-shouldered as him). Whatever happens, let me be worthy of Rey.
It was almost funny: here he was, a Prince by right and by blood of New Alderaan and Naboo, and the former Supreme Leader of the mightiest regime since the Galactic Empire—and he was absolutely unworthy of this feisty, twenty-year-old scavenger from Jakku.
Not just a scavenger, he reminded himself as the guards scraped open a cell door. A Jedi. The Last Jedi. A girl who could've claimed the title of "Empress Palpatine," if she'd wanted it.
But she didn't. She just wanted you.
The guards shoved him into the cell; Ben drew on just enough of the Force to keep himself from stumbling on his sore leg. The door closed behind him with a resounding clang. The cell had no windows, and it was lit by a single bulb in a ceiling he could touch merely by lifting his hand a few inches above his head. A frail-looking cot stood against one wall, and there was an empty metal bucket in one corner. Ben lifted an eyebrow.
Resistance facilities. Not exactly state-of-the-art.
The sneering thought sounded disturbingly like his old self; with a shudder, he pushed it away and sank to a seat on the cot. Slowly, he lifted the hem of his tattered sweater. Rey had knitted his ribs back together aboard the Falcon when he first came to, but the black-and-blue bruising across his side still looked ferocious. His leg throbbed, too—partially healed, as well, but not completely.
Hissing between his teeth, he laid his palm against his thigh. No matter what tomorrow might bring—or maybe even tonight, depending on what happens between Rey and Dameron—he ought to at least be able to walk properly. Warm, soothing energy flowed into his leg, mending the remaining fractures and torn muscles. When he was done, he thought about channeling the same power into his torso.
But his hands shook and his head swam, reminding him too much of those last few moments before he lost consciousness on Exegol. Drawing an unsteady breath, Ben stretched himself out on the cot, closed his eyes, and let the weariness wash over him…
Until voices—loud, furious voices—dragged him out of his all-too-short nap.
"Where is he?! Where is he?!"
"Sir, we can't let you in—General Dameron's ord—"
But the nervous guard's voice was cut off with a cry. Ben sat up as fast as he could, wrapping one arm around his throbbing side. The commotion was getting louder outside. He stood, his heartbeat quickening, his free hand instinctively tightening into a vicious fist…
NO! No matter what comes through that door, you will NOT wield the Darkness!
He gritted his teeth, loosened his fingers, and flung his head back as the cell door suddenly burst open. At the sight of his visitor, fear stabbed through him: the man was so tall, his head barely cleared the already-low ceiling, and his bare arms rippled with muscles. A miner, Ben guessed, or some other kind of heavy laborer. The remaining guards tried to drag the man backwards, but he flung them away like rag dolls.
"Butcher!" the man roared, his face contorting with grief and rage. "My wife and daughter were on Jakku…when you came looking for Lor San Tekka! You killed them!"
Ben didn't even realize he was backing up until his shoulders hit the wall. He glanced down, saw the heavy metal tool gripped in the man's hand. His stomach turned over, but he held his head up, and forced himself to look the man in the eye.
"You don't even know who I'm talking about," the man choked, tears rolling down his reddened face. "You wiped out that entire village…but they were just nameless obstacles to you. You've killed so many people since then, you probably don't even remember it."
Agony radiated through Ben's heart and mind, leaving him breathless. And it wasn't just the man's grief that he felt, either. It was like the scar tissue, built up over his conscience for the last seven years, had peeled away, leaving him bleeding and raw and screaming inside.
"I remember it," he heard himself say, his voice low and rasping. "I remember all of it…"
Before he could say anything else, the man clenched his teeth and let out a horrible, wordless cry. The next thing Ben knew, he'd been yanked away from the wall by the hair, the metal tool slammed into his gut. Guards bellowed frantic orders, scrambling into the room, trying to get the man away—but the weapon struck again and Ben went down on his knees, wheezing and coughing.
"MURDERER!" the man screamed. "You're gonna pay for what you've done!"
"Ben?! Ben, what's wrong?!"
Rey's panic thundered across the Bond; Ben slammed her out just as the man kicked him, hurling him into the wall. The room echoed with orders to cease and desist, followed by cries for help—but none of it seemed to be working. Ben heaved, only vaguely aware of the man yanking him to his feet. The hot, coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. He couldn't tell if it came from his nose or if it was coming up his throat.
Choke him, the cold, toneless voice of Kylo Ren ordered in the back of his head. You don't have to put up with this. Crush his windpipe now. Put him out of his misery—
NO! Ben thrust aside the temptation with a groan and fixed his mind instead on a girl dressed in white, her hazel eyes full of love and compassion, her hair streaming down her back in a dark, tousled curtain. A strong, pure Light blazed behind her, and he was pretty sure she was calling his name.
But then the man slammed his fist into his head, and he knew no more.