Star Wars: Division
I'm surprised this story has already reached Chapter 8 - seems like the time has gone by so quickly. I had gotten into the rhythm of posting on Thursdays, but these last two weeks I've been posting on Friday, which I'm sorry about. But I haven't been feeling well. I'd like to return to posting on Thursdays, but honestly I don't know if I'll keep to a schedule. My only real aim is to make sure I post a chapter a week - the day doesn't matter so much. Anyway - enough rambling. Of course, infinite thank yous to all my readers, followers, favorite-ers, and commenters. Please enjoy.
As always - reviews, comments, questions, concerns are always welcome.
Chapter Eight
After he'd left, she'd taken the lightsaber pieces back to her desk and began scanning through the pages of the Jedi texts, looking for any information on lightsabers. But after only ten minutes of searching she grew frustrated and slammed the book closed, pushing it aside. She would have to give things a try based purely on what little information Kylo Ren had told her and what he had showed her. It was all she had until the next time they met.
She returned to the spot on the floor she had used when in communion with Kylo Ren, and placed the two pieces before her. Tentatively, she reached out in the Force to feel the kyber crystal, unsure of its reaction. Could she make it angry? Disgusted? If it was a sentient thing, as Kylo Ren had told her, then if she did something wrong, would it not listen to her? It's possible, she thought nervously. It had been Anakin's lightsaber, after all, and had ended its duty to the Jedi as soon as he became Darth Vader. It didn't listen to the Sith Lord, who had not been its true creator.
And Kylo Ren? Sometimes it seemed to accept him, and other times it rejected him. And then there was the matter of Kylo Ren's lightsaber, which had come flying to her hand the moment she'd called for it. The Force was confusing; she didn't know if she'd ever escape the mire that was the knowledge of the ways of the Force. But if she continued to be bombarded by questions and curiosity, she would never get down to the practical aspect of her training. With a large inhale and exhale of breath to steady her resolve, she felt deeper into the Force, along the edges and curves of the lightsaber's hilt, and gently prodded against the kyber which, as it had done before, vibrated in such a way as she felt harmonious. A good reaction. That, at least, helped ease the tension pulling all her muscles tight.
Trickier was trying to unravel the way in which the lightsaber was assembled. She was beginning to see why lightsaber construction could only be done by a trained Jedi or Sith, because there were no hinges or bolts or screws or anything holding the hilt together. Every single component and piece was designed to perfectly interlock and fit together without the need of extra hardware. That also explained why lightsabers had never before been constructed by non-Force users, even though plenty of lightsabers had fallen from their dead master's hands into the hands of their murderer. Bounty hunters and assassins in particular were the dark sort that liked to collect them and keep them as trophies. Even so, all anyone outside of the training could ever do was own one that had been stolen; it would never be possible for them to create their own.
Rey struggled with that, now. The seams of the metal casing around the hilt fit so well together that she couldn't see the lines showing where it came apart. They were so small, no thicker than a single strand of a baby's hair, and as nearly transparent, too. "Show me," she urged the kyber, which continued to vibrate, but would do no more. "Show me," she said with more feeling, more frustration. No matter which angle she tried to See the lines from through the Force, she couldn't detect them all, and if she did find one it would quickly disappear, leaving her unable to find the beginning or end.
The hilt, still perfectly stitched together, clanked to the floor as she huffed. She opened her eyes.
"Hello Rey."
"M-m-master Skywalker," she stammered in disbelief. She squinted her eyes. "Are you really here or am I having a vision?"
He smirked gruffly and folded his hands in front of him. "I'm really here.
She lowered her eyes a moment, licking her lips, then looked back up at the faint blue-ish glow of Luke Skywalker's form made whole in the Force. "I don't understand."
"It's time, Rey," he said; a little sadly, she thought. "It's time we begin your Jedi training."
Her eyes glossed quickly with tears; why did she feel so emotional? Maybe it was because finally all her hard work was culminating in something she had come to desire so desperately - to be the Jedi hero everyone already thought she was, and that she was desperate to become for those that needed her. The Galaxy needed the Jedi; it always would. Now, it was her time to lead the Order, rebuild it where Luke had failed before her. She would do it. She would answer this calling.
"Show me the lightsaber," Luke said lowly.
Carefully, she picked up the two pieces that sat before her on the floor and placed them in front of him as he, too, sat cross-legged. She watched Luke inspect the lightsaber in a strikingly familiar way to his former student, who had only just been sitting in front of her as he was, in the exact same spot. It was like having deja vu. She was sure that wouldn't be a training session Luke would've approved of, but then maybe that's why he had appeared to her. Did he know? Had he seen the two of them together in the Force - Kylo Ren the teacher, and Rey his student? Had it worried Luke?
"Hm," he said pensively as he inspected the two halves. "It takes a lot to break a lightsaber like this. But the kyber is perfect," he said with a little sigh of relief. He raised his eyes to his pupil. "Let's begin."
Rey placed her hands over each knee, as she had done in their first lesson on Ahch'To, and nodded her head with a deep breath. "I'm ready."
Luke looked something like forlorn, then. "So am I, Rey. I'm ready to be the teacher I should have been from the beginning."
"Master Skywalker - " she began. She wanted to say it was all right, that she understood his pain and conflict. But he raised his hand to stop her.
"The greatest teacher, failure is," he said, quoting the words of Master Yoda as the ancient tree burned behind them. "I have suffered many failures, Rey. And I have learned from them."
"Yes, Master Skywalker," Rey said with a nod.
"First, ground yourself. Open yourself up to the Force, and your kyber. Let it speak to you. Let the Force speak to you about the lightsaber's deconstruction. It will show you how it can be unmade."
With a deep, steadying breath she grounded herself as she had done with Kylo Ren. When she touched the kyber through the Force, it responded with an energetic, vibrant wave of sound that seemed to ring through her like a bell. It held a lot of memories, this kyber crystal, and it promised to show them all to her in time. For now, it wanted to return to its former glory. For now, all she needed to learn was how to make the lightsaber new again.
The door to the austere meeting room aboard the Finalizer clanked shut behind Kylo Ren, signaling the meeting could begin. Around the rectangular table, the Senators shifted in their seats, mostly due to nervousness at finally meeting the new Supreme Leader; they weren't entirely sure what kind of a leader he'd be. They'd known him as the right-hand of the previous head of the First Order, but rumors had been circling that his demeanor had changed, and his outbursts had all but disappeared. He sat down at the head of the table, clad in his all-black ensemble that, at the very least, was still familiar.
"Senators," came his warped voice from the helmet.
"Supreme Leader," replied Senator Sindian; she, at least, had been dealing with Kylo Ren post-Snoke, so she felt the most comfortable with him. The remaining Senators took her cue and collectively said the same - "Supreme Leader" rung out in the meeting room.
Kylo Ren was already disgruntled with the assembly when the first order of business was opened for discussion - these Centrist Senators which had been showing their support for the First Order, albeit behind the Republic's back, were still sniffing around his heels for more funds; reparations, they said, for the losses they'd suffered after the Hosnian System had been obliterated. Again, he was forced to remind them that not only had they already been provided with ample compensation for their losses - which largely involved military and personnel ships - he was also not the one responsible for what had happened. That directive had been given by Supreme Leader Snoke, and he had no part in its execution. He would not take responsibility for the poor decisions of his predecessor.
It was a poor decision, Kylo Ren had always thought that. Destroying five planets in a single blast seemed like a waste. All of their resources, all their people - burned away by the mighty beam of Snoke's kyber-fueled Starkiller. Of course, Armitage thought it was brilliant; a large display of power and force to bring the rest of the Galaxy to heel. He had long grown used to being at constant odds with his Master and his Master's lackey. Snoke was no Darth Sidious, and Hux was certainly no Darth Vader. They had always lacked the clarity of mind needed to realize their ambitions. The greatest weakness amongst most leaders: a thirst for power.
He wanted power, yes, but not in the same way. Their power was meant to be like jewelry, some gaudy thing they wore about themselves to flaunt and show off. He asked only for the strength to accomplish his goals and unite the Galaxy once and for all. Unlike them, he didn't need to be powerful to feel important. Much like Darth Vader, he sought only peace.
Of course, the next order of business after that had been to listen to the sniveling Senators go on about the remaining Populist Senators, and the whispers circulating about their desire to unite with Leia Organa's band of misfits. Like all covetous, greedy, suspicious people, their concerns rested primarily with maintaining the power and wealth they had acquired, rather than the well-being of their people, their planet, or the Galaxy as a whole. They feared Leia's Resistance would rise up with the remaining Republic figures and have the potential to overthrow the First Order. If that happened, they'd all be thrown from their Senatorial positions and never welcomed back, labelled traitors and cowards. They feared the ends of their political careers, and the loss of all their private ships and fancy accoutrements - the clothes, the hair styles, the jewels, the banquets. If only he didn't need these imbeciles to achieve his aims; he'd sooner see them all begging in the streets, a worthy fate for such disgustingly weak people.
Honestly, it was becoming increasingly likely that the remnants of the Republic would be joining with Organa, and once that occurred full scale war would once again be realized. Hux was failing miserably at locating the Resistance - so miserably, in fact, Kylo Ren had begun to wonder if he did it on purpose. He'd accused him of as much not too long ago, but now he was beginning to think that was accurate. If the Resistance wasn't found, then the Republic could join with them and then, as pointed out, war would be inevitable. Perhaps Hux wanted war. War would give him the perfect cover to sneak about and work towards Kylo Ren's demise. While the Supreme Leader was busy orchestrating an entire army and the politics of ruling the Galaxy, Hux could double-cross him with ease. Better yet, if he died out on the battlefield all of Hux's problems would be solved just like that, without a need for lies or fabrications.
"If the Resistance grows in numbers, then we will continue the war," he said simply amid the frantic chatter of the frightened Senators. "But worry not, Senators, you won't be asked to fight. You can enjoy the view from your Yachts, and let me do all the work."
The assembly hushed, embarrassed and humiliated by the Supreme Leader's words. A few shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, or glanced side long at their colleagues, but most remained still, too nervous to do or say anything in case they'd made Kylo Ren angry.
"Well," said Senator Sindian, giving Kylo Ren a brief smile as she rose from her chair and clapped her hands together, "I think our final order of business will be on electing a new First Senator, seeing as the Republic's Chancellor is no longer with us." The assembled politicians smirked or sneered; Chancellor Lanever Villecham was regarded by the Centrists as a fool, firm in his belief that the First Order was no threat to the Republic all the way up to the moment of his death. He had died with Hosnian Prime.
"Agreed," said Senator Madmund. "We should continue on without the Populists and select someone our esteemed Supreme Leader can work best with, in order to accomplish the Senate's and the First Order's aims for the Galaxy."
"Then, we should vote for nominations," said Senator Fatil.
There was a murmur of agreement that passed through the room. "How shall the candidates be chosen for nomination? I suppose two nominations will suffice," added Senator Mortan.
"Yes," chimed in Senator Madmund again, "two nominations will do. I suppose we should evaluate each Senator's credentials, and decide based off that."
Another murmur of agreement with lots of nodding.
Carise Sindian cleared her throat, still standing, and looked at Kylo Ren, who was leaned into his right arm as it sat propped on his arm rest. "Do you have any recommendations, Supreme Leader, for who should be nominated to the position?"
Ah, Sindian, you snake, he thought to himself as he stared at the woman through his helmet's visor. She was trying to get his backing in order to bypass the nomination process entirely and immediately put her name up for the running. After all, whichever Senator he spoke up for, no one would defy him. Indeed, they'd probably continue the election process for posterity, but no matter which Senator ran against the Supreme Leader's chosen candidate, none of them would actually choose him or her in the end. They'd choose the Supreme Leader's Senator; they'd feel they had no choice. Unfortunately for Sindian, she greatly overestimated their relationship.
Still leaned against his arm, looking somewhat bored, he eyed her. "The elections of the Senate are none of my concern, Senator. What the delegation decides to do with its votes and nominations are purely up to the individuals."
She faltered a moment, then quickly recovered. "Well, yes, of course Supreme Leader. But I meant, isn't there a Senator you have a preference for? To help you carry out your glorious work?"
There was only one person who could help him carry out his "glorious work," and she was light years away in the bosom of his mother. "I have faith the delegation will choose the best person for the position of First Senator without my interference."
He stood. As he did, Sindian sat, her conniving scheme momentarily quelled. "If that is all, Senators, I think this meeting has come to an end." Before any of them could say anything more to keep him, he turned and left the room.
With heavy eyelids, he made his way towards the section of the Finalizer that held his private quarters.
"Kylo, wait."
Annoyed, he stopped in his tracks and turned around. Carise Sindian was approaching with quick footsteps, holding her long dress in her left-hand to avoid tripping on it as she went. She was just the sort of Senator he despised - a duplicitous, conniving, power hungry piece of ooze that would backstab and blackmail her way through others to achieve her aims. She was the sort of person that ruined a system like the Republic; the greed that flowed through her veins seeped into every aspect of her politics, infecting all it touched.
When she drew level with him he could already see the beginnings of a pout. Indeed, Sindian was the kind of woman who was used to getting her way, and when she didn't she relied on her beauty to do it for her. Unfortunately for her, Kylo Ren wasn't swayed by physical appearances or the attentions of pretty women. He cared for the singular attention of one woman - no more.
"Kylo," she said again, trying to force some kind of intimacy between them that surely wasn't there. "I mean," she smiled demurely, "Supreme Leader, I was hoping we could discuss the matter of the nomination for First Senator in more depth."
"Ah," he said, bored. He could already see where this conversation was leading. "What about the discussion we just finished did not satisfy you, Senator?"
There was a quick frown at the corners of her mouth, perhaps at being called "Senator," and not "Carise," or even "Sindian," which might impart an affection or closeness he had with her. They had been working together over the past few weeks, and she was hoping he wouldn't be so cold. Winning over the Supreme Leader's favor was a desirable accomplishment indeed. "Well, I was hoping you might reconsider your decision to abstain from voicing your opinion. You know, the Supreme Leader's choice for First Senator would do a lot to sway the members into unifying behind one candidate."
"The figurehead elected to the position of First Senator is none of my concern, as I said." He looked down at her sternly, though the expression of his face was hidden behind the intimidating visage of his mask. "As long as they answer to me, I don't care who it is."
For a moment she looked flustered, rapidly blinking her eyes with her mouth closed tightly. Then she regained her faculties. "Well, yes, of course the First Senator would ultimately answer to you, Supreme Leader, that's why I'd expect you'd like to elect someone who you already work well with, in order to ease the process and make for a strong political bond."
"I'm assuming, Senator," he said, weary of the games already, "that you're suggesting I back you for the nomination?"
She smiled coquettishly and it was all he could to not roll his eyes. "Well, I certainly feel qualified for the position, and you and I have worked well together these past weeks, getting things in order and pushing plans forward. We could make an excellent team."
He straightened himself, rising to his full height. "I don't need a teammate, Senator, I need a subordinate. I'm sure whoever is elected will discover that soon enough, so it doesn't matter to me who is chosen. Now, if we're finished - " he made to turn away.
Quickly, her hand snapped out and grabbed him by the upper arm, though gently. "Kylo, please, I think if you'll just let me explain my ideas for the future of the First Order, you'll see I'm truly the best candidate for the job."
He looked down at the hand around his arm and then to her, growing irritated. With one step, the distance between them all but closed, and he was practically saying into her ear, "Remove your hand, Senator, before I detach it from your body." With a sharp gasp of fear, she released her hand and let it fall to her side, limp. "What did you think was going to happen, Senator? Did you think you'd be able to charm me because you're beautiful?"
"No! No, of course not Supreme Leader. I just thought - "
Her thoughts and emotions played across her mind loudly, and he sensed them with the Force. "You thought that because we have a common enemy, I'd be willing to help you."
Her bottom lip quivered. In actuality, Carise Sindian was a coward, the sort of snake-like person who never got their hands dirty because it was so much easier and guilt free to have someone else clean up the mess. And, yes, because of her striking appearance - the jet black hair and chocolate eyes and elegant dresses - many men lusted after her, and she used all of it to her advantage. But never before had she not only been turned down, but threatened in such a way; she was afraid. No, terrified.
"I just thought," she said breathlessly, "you'd understand my aims."
"What happened between you and Leia Organa is for you to stomach, Senator. You discredited her in front of the entire Senate chamber, and she got her revenge because you were too sloppy and got caught. And she did it so well," he said darkly, leaning down even closer to her pretty, delicate little ear that lay exposed to the air because she'd tucked her long, flowing hair behind it, "that you'll never be called Lady again, no matter if you become First Senator or not." He inhaled deeply. "You lost."
Then, he stood to his full height and turned, leaving her there to wallow in her impotent rage and bitter memories. She thought he'd help her out of sympathy, camaraderie, but he'd never help someone who had not only disgraced his mother, but his grandfather's name and lineage as well. She was a fool. His mother always warned him against making enemies, especially amongst a group that one had to work with, but he couldn't even feign neutrality, let alone diplomacy, with a woman like her. He was sure this wouldn't be the last of it - she'd find a way to breach the subject again before she left his ship to return to Arkanis, her homeworld. Let her bring it up - his stance wouldn't change.
Relief greeted him at the door to his private quarters as he entered his personal code and the door slid open. She had never set foot in this room, but there were so many memories of Rey that lingered in its walls, held captive and secret and sacred, unable to bleed out into the other dirty parts of his twisted up life. It was a sanctuary of sorts, and he had come to associate it with her because of their constant conversations that occurred there. And those other, more intimate things, he thought as his eyes passed over the length of his bed. She had straddled him atop that bed, had touched him, kissed him, claimed him. She had felt so dark and needy, a mirror to how he felt every day.
When would this game end between them?
Sighing, he undressed, first removing his gloves, then his helmet, then the cowl, and so on and so forth until he was bare chested and ready to sleep. There would be a formal dinner in a few hours time to honor the Senators, but it was an affair he knew he wouldn't be able to attend and stomach his way through unless he was well rested, and at the moment he was exhausted. If Rey had looked haggard, he must look like Death. No amount of showering or clean clothes could hide the dark circles under his eyes, or the haunt in his stare. Certainly, they couldn't silence his thoughts, which were his biggest problem, and the heaviest weight he carried.
He turned his intercom system to 'emergency only' and then let himself slide into bed indulgently. What he wouldn't give to have rest unplagued by dreams. Or memories. While Rey's had come from being connected too much to the Force, his came from the torment of his own mind. And unlike her, he could not close himself off from it; it was a burden, always there.
With a small sound similar to a ship door sealing, the hilt of the lightsaber came back together and was once more whole. She looked at it in wonder as it rested across the palms of her hands. This was the biggest Jedi accomplishment she'd reached, yet - the construction of her lightsaber. With Luke's instruction, she had been able to speak to the lightsaber in a way only she could, and found the seam lines, and then very slowly, very carefully released the hilt until both pieces came apart and were nothing but the individual parts.
"It will need a new hilt casing," Luke had said, as she gazed over the layout of the pieces before her. "But it appears not many other things were damaged." What was damaged he told her she could find easily. Luckily, all the difficult materials were intact and in great working order for use. His lesson had ended there, with his last bit of advice to go out and find materials for a new hilt casing as soon as possible.
"I will, immediately," she said with elation. The thought of having the lightsaber back at her belt was exhilarating; she couldn't wait.
By then, they had landed at Vrogas Vas. It was a derelict planet - dry, somewhat barren. "Ravaged by the Empire," Leia had muttered to her under her breath as they descended the ramp. It certainly was nothing like Takodana or Batuu.
"It's a good sign, though. It could very well mean it's still abandoned," Leia continued, as they all emptied out of the Falcon, and the X-Wing pilots finally made their descent to earth after being in the air for some 12 hours, depleting their fuel to just-before-empty. Next to the Falcon, the TL made its landing and also emptied, and a quick assembly was formed in the old, abandoned fueling station of the Rebels.
"Lieutenant, first order of business is to get our signal broadcasting. We need to reach our allies in the Republic, however many of them remain. And if we can, let's see if we can't begin recruiting to our cause."
"Yes, General," said the Lieutenant, and she immediately grabbed two of her communications officers and went to set up the equipment amongst the fueling station hangar's debris.
The meeting was brief, but everyone was in good spirits, still riding their high after the miraculous escape on Batuu (which many were attributing in large part to their Jedi hero), and some broke out the remaining alcohol from their Batuu overstock and began the party anew. Poe was eager to join them, and he drug his friends along, though to be fair none of them were resisting. Rey noticed Poe was like a new man - back to his old charming, dashing, rogue-ish self now that he had a fighter plane to call home. It suited him. He had never lost the upbeat attitude or the charm, but something had been off about him before, right after the events on Crait. He'd been introspective at times, a bit cynical at others. But now he was just an ace pilot again, with a very large axe to grind against the First Order.
The celebrations had gone on for a bit, but Rey excused herself to get a move on with the completion of the lightsaber. As a former scavenger, roaming around the debris and ruins was familiar - almost comfortable - territory, and it didn't take her very long to find the materials she needed. If she'd had a knack before for sensing out parts in the gargantuan remains of old Star Destroyers, she certainly was adept at it now, when she was actually intending to use the Force to find them.
She had her things in hand as she ascended the ramp to the Falcon, when Leia spotted her and called out to her. She stopped and turned.
The General walked closer to her. "Have you eaten, Rey?"
She smiled. "I have, yeah. I was a part of that party over there," she said, gesturing with a hand towards the group of laughing, dancing Resistance members, "not too long ago."
The General turned back from eying the group, and gazed up at the young Jedi. "But you have work to do, I take it?"
Rey's smile widened, lighting up her entire face. "Very important work."
Leia nodded. "Then I won't keep you."
Rey nodded in return and continued up the ramp. Once she reached her bedroom, she went quickly to the parts that were still laid out carefully on the floor and replaced all the damaged ones with the new ones she'd nicked from the rubble. She set the new hilt casing down. Next to the remains of the old one, the new casing looked decidedly more shabby; where Anakin's hilt was smooth, shiny, and brilliant silver, hers was dark grey, like gunmetal, and the texture had a matte like finish so her face did not entirely reflect back at her when she gazed into it. Still, the materials would work for now. That's what really mattered. When she got the chance to replace it with more expensive materials, she'd do so. But as Luke had told her - it wasn't the appearance that made the lightsaber.
Once completed, she'd taken to running through some of the fighting stances and forms she knew (though how she knew them, she didn't know). They were the same as she had practiced on Ahch'To, when she'd accidentally cut the rock in half. They felt good, these forms; they suited her.
"The Force is the Light," she said as she moved, "the Force is the Dark. Jedi choose the Light, for all it reveals." She remembered when C-3PO had first read that line from the Jexi texts, acting as her translator. She repeated the words as she trained like a mantra. It focused her mind.
It was while she was training that the connection bridged them together again. Startled from her concentration, she quickly deactivated the lightsaber and searched for him. He was to her right, but it looked like he was sleeping. Or had been sleeping; he stirred while she drew closer. His expression was calm and easy, like she remembered it from the Supremacy.
Navigating the pure darkness in front of her - except for his relaxed form - she made her way closer and found what must've been the end of his bed, and sat down. Actually, she was looking forward to their meeting, now that she'd fixed the lightsaber. She wanted to share her accomplishments with him.
"Rey," he said hoarsely; his eyes came open. "What are you - " he cut himself off and looked quickly to the door, which was sealed shut, and then back to her. "How did you get in here?"
She showed him a gentle smile. "It's the Force connection. I'm not actually there, well - here," she said.
Of course, he thought ruefully. Having her there would be too good to be true. He wiped a hand across his eyes and sat up.
She hadn't noticed before, but she noticed it then. He was bare chested. Why was she always coming across him when he wasn't fully clothed? Did the Force have a sense of humor? "I'm sorry if I woke you up," she said shyly, unable to look at him as he eyed her where he sat.
"You didn't," he said simply. He had been waking up on his own. Though, he had thought seeing Rey was a dream; it was the kind of dream he sometimes had in his more restful moments, when nightmares and memories didn't haunt him.
"I have," she bit down on her bottom lip, something he'd never seen her do before. "I have something to show you." From the other side of her the lightsaber came into view, as she took hold of it in the palms of her hands and showed it to him in all its newly constructed glory. Her accompanying smile almost outshone the lightsaber. Her whole being was aglow.
She had wanted to share this moment with him, and he couldn't be more pleased as he took in the new hilt and its dark, grey color. Excited, she gripped it in hand and ignited the blade with the characteristic voom, and its blue, gently pulsing aura cast a light across his face. It was odd how this lightsaber had come to symbolize so much, especially between them. She had wounded him with this lightsaber, and yet he had helped her in remaking it. He didn't resent it or her. In fact, he cared for them both.
It dawned on him, however, that she should not have been able to reconstruct it without his help. They had ended their lesson early; he had never shown her exactly how to disassemble it, and he certainly hadn't told her which pieces were dysfunctional. She should not have been able to make it work, even if she had been able to deconstruct it. She was powerful and smart, yes, but no Force-learner would be able to accomplish such a thing.
She had had help.
Kylo Ren looked at her as she smiled and de-ignited the blade. It couldn't have been his mother; she knew nothing of lightsabers. But if it wasn't him, and it couldn't be his mother, then who - ? Luke, he thought bitterly. Had his Master become one with the Force in order to return to Rey as a Ghost? He had never seen it himself, but he heard stories about Ghosts in the Force, former Jedi who lived within its energy and could return to the living for brief moments in order to impart wisdom, share knowledge, guide hands. Luke had been taught in such a way by Yoda in the years following the collapse of the Empire, and he'd also heard stories of the Force Ghost of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Leia had mentioned seeing Obi-Wan Kenobi's Ghost, once. Surely, this was how Rey had finished the lightsaber.
"Did you have help," he asked, leaving it open to interpretation. She could easily say she'd had help from the Jedi texts if she wanted.
"No," she said quickly, and even though her face had no real giveaways he could see it, he still knew she was lying. Her face was too honest not to show it, even without the usual physical tells like an eye twitch or a tug at the corner of the mouth.
She had lied to him. Somehow, that was a painful truth.
He wanted to confront her, but he also wanted to savor this moment, this moment in which she'd come to him seeking his approval. "I'm proud of you," he said, and placed a tentative hand on hers.
She looked away, perhaps shyly, but again turned her eyes on him. "I know it isn't perfect," she began.
"How it looks isn't important," he said. "What matters is that you did it."
Just like Luke - they really were Master and Student, even if neither of them had been able to reconcile that fact. These were the moments that she saw Ben Solo and his Master's guidance, and the lessons he'd learned from the Jedi Order that still lingered in his mind. They still influenced him, no matter how cynical and bitter he'd become, and that's why both his mother and Rey were unable to let go of the idea he could be saved. He can be, Rey thought hopefully. This proves it. This was as close to a gentle side she was going to get, but still, it was a gentle side.
The urge to kiss him rose up in her. How could she not, with his eyes searching her face, his hair still slightly messy from sleep, his chest very much bare and within arm's length.
So she did, and threw caution to the wind yet again.
It was with such automatic, instinctual movements that she was pulled onto his lap as their mouths met, his hands already in her hair. All of her happiness and joy buffeted her forward like a wave, eager to crash against him, eager to suck him into her moment in the sun. She should not have cared so much about what he would say when he saw the completed lightsaber, and yet hearing he was proud, and hearing she'd done well, had given her such an overwhelming rush of ecstasy. He showed he cared; it showed he cared like she cared.
Her mouth and tongue moved along the firm curves of the muscles in his shoulders and chest as she left kisses, and playful nibbles, and absorbed the sound of his moans so close in her ear. He gripped the back of her neck to encourage her, so she left him a few bites along his neck as he'd done previously to her, before rejoining their mouths in a passionate kiss.
The dinner, he thought reluctantly through the haze of pleasure as Rey's thighs tightened around his lap while he held her and their lips grew hot. They would be expecting him. Dammit.
He pulled away. Rey looked confused as his hands cupped her face. "I can't," he breathed.
"Stop me," she said under her breath, her chest pressed against him. "Tell me no."
But he couldn't do that. All he could do was look into her eyes; in the murky waters of her gaze he saw, with an unreasonable amount of pleasure, sensuality and fervor. Her lips were such a dark pink. They were a tease all their own, swollen and hot, and when she bit down on the bottom one he relinquished control of his faculties and flipped her, pinning him beneath his body. He hadn't seen her like this, yet, with her hair fanned out around her. With her expression so strong and sensual, but so vulnerable. Like he could do anything, and she'd never let him stop.
His palm moved over the curve of her breast, bound as it was beneath her tunic, massaging and teasing. She moaned and arched up into him, so he gave it a gentle squeeze and saw her brows knit together. What he wouldn't give to rip off her austere colored clothing to reach the flesh within, and yet he was too anxious that would be taking things a step too far. He didn't want to break boundaries - well, he did, if things were any indication, but he only wanted to break them if she would accept him doing it. Their relationship was tenuous at best; one wrong move and he could drive her away.
"Touch me," she begged beneath him; she must have sensed his thoughts. "I'm not afraid."
But she didn't wait for him to begin the process, and instead rose up on her elbows and took off her vest, then pulled her tunic over her head, leaving nothing but the wrappings. Her hands roamed down his chest, then up, over his shoulders, and down his arms, letting her nails drag down until she was at his wrists and gripping them desperately. "I want you," she whispered.
"I want you, too," he confessed in a rush, then all but tore what remained of her covering off to reveal her naked breasts underneath. Round and sweet, like he imagined them, all that was left was to taste them. Palming one, he dipped his head and took in the other by the nipple and relished her sharp intake of breath while she tugged at the hair at the base of his neck. Everything about her crashed against his senses - her sounds, her smell, her taste, and the vixen-like way she was raising her hips up into him. Coaxing him, making him rise to her temptations. Hell if it wasn't working; hell if he didn't feel like he was wrapped around her finger, even as his tongue languished across the shape of her nipple and made her melt in his hands.
He lowered his palm to the spot between her legs, still clothed, but still very much alive. He cupped her, with his palm pressing into the skin just above her clit, and she cried out in surprise, jolted by the sudden spike of pleasure. But it had meant to be a question - a question as to whether or not things would move forward. Her hands at the hemline of his own pants confirmed the answer.
As they both began stripping their lower halves, an unfamiliar voice reached Rey's ears. "Supreme Leader," said a silky, feminine voice. "The feast is about to begin. I thought you and I could walk down together. Perhaps pick up our previous conversation?"
He hung his head in frustration. Still unable to concede defeat, now she was intruding on possibly the best moment of his life. "Fine, Senator," he said bitingly. "I'll be out shortly."
When he took in Rey's face, he knew something was wrong. She looked upset. And not in the sense of being on the verge of tears; she looked furious. Had she heard? But they usually weren't able to hear or see anything on the opposing person's side of the Galaxy.
"I'm sorry," he said, rolling off of her with a great deal of reluctance as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I have to go." He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "There's a feast being held for visiting Senators. The delegation I had to entertain earlier."
"You don't need to explain your First Order business to me."
Disappointed, and fearing the look on her face, he glanced back over his shoulder. All that remained of her beautiful body was the beautiful outline it had left in his sheets.