Chapter 16: A [Jedi's] Weapon
"I thought I saw the devil this morning
Looking in the mirror."
-I'll Be Good, Jaymes Young
29 ABY
Ben and Han were already gone by the time Rey woke the next morning, so she gave herself a few quiet minutes in which to think before rising to meet the day. For weeks—months, even—she had been putting off this sort of speculation by telling herself that she would have time to unscramble her thoughts at a later point in time. Now, the weight of Leia's disapproval clashed with the vibrant fizzing spark of Ben's arm around her shoulders and the warm press of his lips against her hair.
If Colt was right—which she begrudgingly admitted that he usually was—her closeness with Ben wasn't on par for a normal friendship. And if Luke and Leia's reactions were anything to judge by, they found a discomfiting strangeness in the duo as well.
The others won't understand, Ben had told her once, in reference to their Force connection. They'll think it's unnatural.
But could the others sense their intangible bond, or were they simply reacting to the friendship Rey and Ben had forged? Even Han, who Rey was sure had all the Force sensitivity of a pourstone wall, had picked up on their closeness. Love doesn't make you weak, he had told Leia. Rey wasn't afraid to admit that she loved Ben, but she was only just beginning to realize that there were different sorts of love. Few would deny that Luke Skywalker loved his twin sister, but Leia seemed convinced that whatever love was between Rey and Ben was of a different type.
So, we're not friends, and we're not family, Rey acknowledged, with a growing sense of dread. What, then?
In the rare silence of Ben's old room, Rey allowed herself to dig into the weighty chest of hidden thoughts and memories that concerned him. They were feelings that she ordinarily concealed—either because she viewed them as ridiculous, or because she had the strange sense that Ben wouldn't appreciate them. It was instinct, more than anything, that led her to hide these parts of herself, but she wondered suddenly whether there hadn't been a method to her madness.
In her mind's eyes, she could see him clearly. He towered over her, his dark hair skimming his cheekbones and the width of his shoulders accentuating the taper of his lean waist. There was a crooked half smile on his lips, and his dark eyes were searching. If Rey concentrated, she could imagine the deep timbre of his voice and the warm weight of his hand on her shoulder.
She shivered, and with terrible certainty, she knew. She was attracted to Ben Solo—to his eyes, and his smile, and his stupid, giant ears. She wanted him to look at her, to smile at her, to—here her internal train of thought nearly shattered—press kisses to her hair and her nose and her cheeks. She wanted him to pull her into one of his achingly sweet embraces and tell her that he would never grow older and leave her.
Acknowledging her feelings filled Rey with a mixture of profound relief and agonizing despair. Because as certain as she was that Ben Solo loved her, she was equally certain that his love wasn't of the same variety. Listen, teach, and comfort her though he might, nothing could change the fact that he was the Prince of Alderaan, heir apparent to Senator Leia Organa, and nearly ten years her senior. He might love her with the fierceness of a thousand brilliant suns, but he would never be in love with her.
Because, a small, cold voice told her, princes don't fall in love with desert rats. You're nothing but a child to him. The recognition pricked at her chest. A kid sister that he has to look out for.
Unbidden, she thought of Serai, whose dark eyes glittered when she smiled, and Janneh, whose whipcord grace had turned more than a few heads on missions. They were the sort of girls—women—that Ben would be interested in: intelligent, beautiful, dangerous. And not children.
A scene rose vividly in her mind, of Ben leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Serai's dark head. His large hand fit perfectly on the curve of her waist, and she giggled as she rose on her toes to—
Rey flung her sheets off with a growl and rolled out of bed. She felt uncomfortably warm, as if she'd just finished running, and the itching, irritable sensation in her chest wouldn't leave no matter how quickly she paced the room.
Enough, she told herself. Ben Solo is your best friend, and if he knew you felt any different, he would be devastated. So keep it to yourself, you stupid child.
It took Rey nearly an hour of meditation to feel satisfied that her thoughts were tucked away where Ben wouldn't accidentally stumble upon her realization by way of their Force connection. When she finally staggered into the kitchen, the sun was already high in the sky. Leia was seated at the table, sipping from a steaming mug of caf while perusing a thick stack of files.
"Breakfast is in the conservator," she said, without looking up.
"Sorry I'm late," Rey mumbled quietly, shuffling across the kitchen and trying not to think about what Ben told her the night before. She was unsettled enough already, and she didn't want the bright ember of anger that she felt towards his mother to upset things further.
Leia's laugh answered her. "As if I'm not used to it," she said warmly. "Ben never seemed to make it out of his room before noon when he was your age."
"Maybe he just liked the peace and quiet," Rey bit out, rather more aggressively than she had intended.
Leia looked up in surprise. "Oh, yes, I suppose. He always was a quiet boy. Never wanted much company."
The words made Rey feel vaguely ill, and she excused herself after finishing only half her toast. She could feel Leia's eyes following her back down the hallway.
In Ben's room, she paced for several more minutes before settling on the ground and pulling out her kyber crystals. Surely tinkering would put her mind off her problems. The technical issues that Ben had raised the previous afternoon were a fair starting point, and she spent the next thirty minutes laying out a skeleton of the saber that would achieve the proper angle for the efflux fans, before realizing that the narrowness of the hilt would require ultra-insulated wiring to prevent short-circuits. She was rummaging through a box of backup parts in Ben's closet when a sense of utter stillness crept over her. Lips curving upwards, she swiveled around to find her friend sprawled amongst the makings of her saber.
"Fancy seeing you here," he said through barely concealed laughter.
Rey rolled her eyes to disguise the soft feeling creeping into her chest. "Not three hours you've been gone, and already you feel the need to Force-teleport yourself directly into the middle of my work?"
Ben pressed a hand to his chest in mock-injury. "Well, I thought you'd be glad to see me. Besides, I've not teleported anywhere, as you well know." As if to demonstrate, he swept a hand downwards and watched it pass directly through her flux capacitor.
It had taken Rey several years to grow accustomed to the unfathomable habits of their Force bond, most strange of which was its propensity to create remarkably detailed projections across vast distances of space. The projections were outside of conscious control, but occurred only infrequently when the two were in close proximity, giving them little opportunity to experiment with the full capabilities of their connection. While Rey could clearly see Ben and objects he interacted with, she was unable to catch a glimpse of his surroundings. To her it seemed as if he sat cross-legged in the middle of the bedroom, his shoulders slightly hunched.
"Aren't you with Han?" she questioned. "Doesn't he mind you talking to the walls?"
"He and Chewie are haggling over credits with their supplier," Ben responded airily. "I expect they'll awhile."
"Well, good," she said, choosing to ignore the uncharacteristic lightness in his manner. "You can help me decide which condenser will best keep my blades symmetrical. The ones you have here are all unidirectional, so I'll have to make modifications, and I can't decide which will be easier to work with."
"Hold them up, let me see," Ben said, immediately business-like.
Rey displayed the three tapered rings on the palms of her hands.
"Well the middle one is—"
"—too bulky," Rey agreed. "I'd have to remove the entire outer coil."
"Not worth it," Ben said, pressing the pad of his thumb to his lips. Rey refocused her gaze on her own hands. "Try looking in the toolkit on my desk," he continued. "Third drawer from the bottom, on the left side. There should be a second condenser identical to the smallest one you've got there. If you combine the two you could—"
"—fuse them to create a bi-directional amplifier," they finished together.
Rey was scrabbling through the drawer in search of the needed parts when she heard the creaking of floorboards and froze.
"What is it?" Ben asked, turning to follow her gaze as she swiveled towards the door.
Silently she shook her head and crept to the doorframe, stepping over Ben's outstretched legs as she went. The door was barely ajar, and she leaned in, bringing her eye close to the crack.
Nothing. The hallway was deserted.
Letting out a gusty breath she returned to her place on the floor. "Nothing," she whispered. "But we should be quiet."
Ben hmmmed and squinted at the parts in her palm, before murmuring a few words of advice on how best to file the edges so that the two halves would form a perfect seal.
When the Force projection ended twenty minutes later, Rey's only warning was the resumed buzz of ambient noise, and the sudden emptiness of the space across from her.
Rey entered the kitchen eight hours later to find Leia in the same place she'd left her. The only difference was the addition of a datapad, which the Senator was studying intensely. Rey wondered at Leia's presence in the suite, when ordinarily she would have been residing in the halls of the Senate. Perhaps she'd hoped for more company from her visiting son. Rey felt a small pang of regret for her earlier words.
"How is your saber coming along, Rey?" Leia asked, powering down the datapad as she looked up. For the first time, Rey noticed how the lines around her mouth and eyes had deepened in the past several years. Visits to and from the Jedi Temple were few and far between.
"It's finished," Rey answered. Without ceremony, she drew the sheathed weapon from behind her back. The hilt was narrow and fit perfectly in the circle of her fingers. A lightly cross hatched center guard wrapped in pale leather afforded her a better grip. Twin emitters graced either end of the weapon; it had taken her hours to puzzle through the physics of a configuration that would allow the blades to be extended both separately and in partnership without shorting out the entire device. The solution had been deceptively tricky, but had luckily allowed for a hilt short enough to be wielded both single- and double-handedly.
Leia extended a palm, and Rey reluctantly acquiesced, passing the weapon over. Leia swiveled it, taking in the sweeping curves of the workmanship, the polished bevels, and the elegant starburst taper of the plasma-emitters. It was a weapon designed for both strength and grace, much like Rey herself, the Senator mused. She passed it back.
"It's unusual," she finally said. "I haven't heard of a double-handed saber since…well, it's been a fair few years. Have you tested it yet?"
Rey shook her head. "I'm waiting for Ben," she answered. "He'll be here soon."
Leia's dark brows pinched together over her eyes. "Oh? I can't sense him."
Rey coughed nervously. "Er…they're still in hyperspace." She tapped the comm at her hip. "He sent me a message before they jumped."
Leia's gaze was inscrutable, but she didn't question Rey's explanation.
Fifteen minutes later, Ben, Han, and Chewie came tumbling into the apartment smelling of woodsmoke and iron. Ben had a smudge of grease on his left cheekbone that he seemed not to have noticed.
Rey was nearly vibrating with excitement.
"Relax, kid," Han hummed. "You're going to set your chair on fire."
"It's done!" Rey exclaimed, too impatient to wait through a round of greetings. "My saber!"
Ben paused in toeing his boots off, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's see it!"
"Ben!" Leia scolded. "No lightsabers in the house!"
Ben scoffed and bent to re-lace his shoes. "Fine, fine, we'll go down into the courtyard. Could use a little sparring match anyways. What do you say, Rey?"
Rey had already finished buttoning her jacket and was on her way to the door. "Hurry, hurry!" she beseeched.
Ben barked out a surprised laugh, catching the door as she swung it open. "Are you coming?" he asked his parents over his shoulder.
Han's mouth fell open, as if surprised at the invitation. Before he could answer, Leia cut in, "We'll watch from the balcony."
Ben nodded briefly, and finally they were off, tumbling into the elevator like two excited puppies, their feet tapping impatiently all the way to the ground floor.
"Can I see?" Ben finally asked, as the elevator crept past floor eighteen.
Rey pressed her saber into his palm. He brought the weapon to eye-level and examined it closely. "Hmmm," he murmured. "It's elegant. I'm impressed that you managed to keep the hilt so short and narrow—the electromagnetic fields must—"
"Feed into one another," Rey finished for him. "Took me ages to figure out how to manage it."
"Clever," he praised, not taking his eyes off the saber, and missing the vibrant blush that suffused Rey's cheeks. "You've got some experience with a staff but this will require a whole new form of saber training. To be able to transition between double- and single-bladed combat will require perfect timing and even better coordination. Luke hasn't taught any Jar'Kai at the academy, but it's the only form that intentionally accommodates double-bladed sabers. I'll see what I can find in the Jedi texts when we return to Yavin IV. My guess is that your style will also include elements of Ataru, since you already tend towards it."
Rey nodded solemnly, her heart swelling at Ben's casual generosity.
The elevator hit the ground level and they shuffled out into the cool humidity of the courtyard. The sun was nearing the horizon, and the blossoming trees were caught in the soft strokes of golden hour. Briefly they ran through a series of poses and forms—sabers sheathed—to warm their muscles and attune with the Force. Rey was nearly too excited to focus, and she could tell that Ben was impatient as well.
Finally, they took up their place on opposite sides of the courtyard and drew their weapons.
Rey watched Ben's face carefully as she ignited her saber. The warm golden-yellow light of it washed over his pale skin, dulling the edges of the mark on his cheek. It illuminated his dark eyes, reflecting on the flecks of honey that ringed his pupils. His lips parted in something like wonder, and Rey felt a warm thrill run up her spine. She could almost imagine that he was looking at her with that same sense of wonder, rather than the weapon in her hand.
"Incredible," he whispered. His eyes flickered up to hers, suddenly playful. "Let's see what it can do."
Without warning, he swung his own saber in an overhand slash towards the junction of her neck and shoulder. Any ordinary human would've been cleaved unceremoniously in two, but Rey sensed the intention of the blow before Ben's hand had so much as twitched. Seamlessly, she tilted her saber on an angle so that one of her blades caught his. Wasting no time, she swiveled towards him, her other blade swinging at his opposite hip. Ben was forced to disengage rapidly, twisting to parry her counterattack.
Rey felt naturally at ease with the saberstaff in hand. Compared to her old training saber, it felt like an extension of her body. She spun, raining blow upon blow, which Ben moved rapidly to block. She knew most warriors would have found it difficult to focus on both blades at once, but she found the transition oddly natural, as if she were carrying both a sword and a shield. Recognizing this bias, she immediately switched tactics—attacking with the normally defensive blade and parrying with the other. Ben was caught off guard momentarily and yielded several steps.
Rey grinned. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd taken the upper hand in a sparring match with Ben.
As if sensing her pride and mirroring it, the beginning of a smile split Ben's face as well. "Not bad for a scruffy little middling," he teased. "Let's see what you can do single-handedly."
Rey bared her teeth and sheathed one blade, approaching Ben with a flurry of blows that he easily parried. They moved back and forth across the courtyard, ducking, spinning, twisting and panting in a duel that seemed without-end. Rey switched from single- to double-bladed fighting at irregular intervals, allowing the advantage of her second blade to take over whenever she felt herself tiring. Sweat poured down her neck and back, and stung the corners of her eyes, but still they traded blows. Her shoulders ached but she refused to yield, clinging to the swooping, soaring feeling of adrenaline that lifted her heart.
While Ben was far stronger than Rey, she was far quicker, and they both knew it. The longer the sparring wore on, the more difficult she found it to dodge and misdirect his blows. Slowly she began to cede ground, moving back across the courtyard until he had her pinned against the ancient stonework. Their blades locked and Ben leaned in, pressing down on her with his superior height and weight. "Yield?" he murmured
"Never!" Rey crowed, disengaging and spinning behind a stone pillar to give herself space. She leapt free into the center of the courtyard, turning to meet Ben just in time.
"You're getting tired," Ben panted, pressing his advantage. "I can tell."
"So are you," Rey challenged, ducking under his guard and flipping backwards to create space. They exchanged another flurry of blows, Rey pouring every ounce of her determination into fending him off. The energy required to strengthen each parry with a wave of Force energy was slowly taking its toll, and her defense became increasingly erratic, fueled only by a kernel of stubbornness and the tantalizing belief that she had more tricks up her sleeve than Ben could imagine.
One such idea came to her suddenly—a clever, foolish thing that would surely end the fight one way or another, though in victory or defeat she was uncertain. Her foot slipped on the cobblestones and she scrambled backwards to avoid Ben's side-hand. It seemed she was running out of options.
In a deceptively complex move, Rey sheathed her first blade at the same moment that she ignited her other, making the saber appear to invert in her grip.
Ben's eyes widened and he managed to duck quickly enough to avoid having his head separated from his shoulders, but he wasn't fast enough to avoid her second blow. With a downward sweep, her hilt collided with his, sending his saber spinning free from his grasp. Wasting no time, Rey ignited her second blade and brought it to an abrupt stop, inches from his neck.
Ben froze, panting.
They stared at one another in disbelief for a handful of seconds: Rey surprised that she'd won, and Ben equally shocked that he'd been defeated. Then, slowly, his face spread into a grin. Her expression mirrored his as he broke into a laugh. His arms spread in a universal gesture of defeat, which Rey chose to interpret as an invitation for a hug. Sheathing her blade, she tipped forward and squeezed him tightly around the middle. Ben's arms fell shut around her shoulders and his laugh died into a chuckle.
"Incredible," he whispered into her hair.
Rey and Ben were still reliving a blow-by-blow account of their first bout when they finally stumbled into Han and Leia's apartment. They had shared several more matches, each of which had been shorter than the first, with Ben coming away victorious in all but one after he began to develop a sense for Rey's altered fighting style.
"Your rotation is much more controlled with the saberstaff than with your training blade," Ben reassured her, gesturing expansively as they entered the kitchen. "You leave fewer openings and you're much more stable."
"I still don't know how you were able to put enough force behind your parries when they were so rushed," Rey returned. "I have two blades to your one and you still outmatch me."
"Well I have to be better at something," Ben teased. "Otherwise why would you keep me around?"
Rey blushed and then froze, noticing suddenly that both Han and Leia were seated at the table. Han was staring down at his folded hands and Leia appeared to be reading an official document with furious intensity. She looked up abruptly, as if surprised at their sudden silence.
"Ben, Rey," she greeted, and her voice was oddly bright, yet formal.
"Mom," Ben said slowly, as if he too had noticed her brittle tone.
"Quite exquisite saber work," she said. "Luke has taught you both well."
Ben coughed softly under his breath, but Rey's elbow found his ribs before he could follow up with a rude comment. "Thank you," she said, beaming.
Leia stared at her for several long seconds before turning her unwavering gaze on Ben. "Well, that's all very good." She stood abruptly and left the room.
Ben's eyes followed her before snapping back to his father. "What?" he asked, voice suddenly dark.
Han looked up, affronted, and spread his hands in a gesture of why are you asking me?
It wasn't until the next day, when Rey had quite forgotten the interaction, that she learned just what was on Leia's mind. Ben's mother was a wise politician, but in this case Rey found it rather unsubtle that the Senator waited until her son was absent—on an errand she had appointed—before seating herself across the table from Rey and fixing the considerable weight of her attention on the young apprentice.
Eventually Rey could bear it no longer. "Is everything alright?" she asked uncertainly, setting aside the book she'd been thumbing through.
"I don't know," Leia echoed. "Is it?"
If Rey had been confused before, she now felt dumbfounded. Had that been a hint of betrayal in Leia's voice?
The silence stretched out almost unbearably, as Rey searched her mind for anything she might've said or done to draw the Senator's ire. Nothing came to mind.
"Your saber is of an…unusual style," Leia finally said. "And your saber form…Ben calls it Ataru but I detect elements of Vaapad as well."
Rey balked. Vaapad was not a form taught at Luke's Temple, for one, clear reason. It was thought to be mostly commonly used by Sith, and Jedi who fell to the dark side, presumably because of the intense emotion it used to fuel a relentless offensive. Suddenly, the angle of Leia's criticism became clear.
"You—think my saber looks like it belongs to a dark sider," Rey said slowly. "That I fight with too much emotion."
Leia sighed wearily. "Rey, I think that you do everything with emotion. In that way, you are much like my son. Much like me, in fact."
"You?" Rey asked incredulously.
"Where do you think my son got his temper from?" Leia asked calmly. "It certainly wasn't from his father."
Rey's mouth quirked into a smile at the thought of blustering, confused, sweet Han channeling an ounce of the icy contempt that Ben sometimes wore like a cloak. "Fair point," she admitted.
"What I am saying, Rey, is that I know how closely you follow my son. I know that you look up to him, that you have learned from him, and that in your eyes he could do no wrong." Rey could all but feel the hairs standing up on her arms. She braced herself for the blow. "But the reality is that Ben has always…struggled in his relationship with the Jedi code. To follow too closely in his footsteps may lead you away from the path Luke wishes you to tread."
Rey clenched her jaw so hard she feared her teeth would crumble. "You think I'm a dark sider because I'm friends with your son and my lightsaber isn't a color that you like," she said flatly. She was proud of how unwaveringly those words came out, how steely her gaze was, though she felt mere moments from bursting into tears.
Leia's eyes flashed. "You are deliberately misunderstanding me," she said, and for the first time Rey understood how other politicians found Leia—kind, warm, comforting Leia—so intimidating.
"The Jedi Code exists for a reason," Leia said. Her voice was soothing again. "The ability to channel the Force is a great privilege. One that comes with an equally great responsibility. To use that power unselfishly and without the rashness of anger or passion is the goal of the Code—for the safety of yourself and those around you. You must walk through the eye of the storm without being swept up, for that is how the Sith are made. The color of your saber and the style of your fighting say nothing about what is in your heart, Rey. Only you can determine that."
Rey swallowed hard. Her entire face felt hot. Ordinarily she would've found Leia's explanation satisfactory. She would have buried her pride, asked for advice, even poured out her worries to Leia about her visions in the cave and the desperate need for love and family that made the Jedi Code feel so foreign to her.
But today wasn't an ordinary day. Today, Ben's admission about his childhood was still whirling through her mind on repeat. The sorrow in his eyes and the pain in his voice were etched into her memories. She wasn't sure what she would say when she finally opened her mouth, but what came out was worse than even she could have imagined.
"Only I know what's in my heart?" she asked slowly, coldly. "Where was that sentiment when you abandoned you son on Yavin IV? Did you presume that you knew what was in his heart? Maybe if the Jedi knew more of love and less of sacrifice, you would have a clearer picture of our character."
Without waiting for an answer, she spun on her heel and fled the kitchen. Ben's door slammed shut behind her.
When Ben found her nearly an hour later, Rey was curled up at the foot of his bed, cheeks wet with tears. He sighed softly, sounding nearly as weary as Leia, and settled beside her. His palm skimmed her curled shoulders. For a while they were silent. Then:
"Leia told me what happened."
Rey glared ferociously at the wall but didn't answer.
"I know you have your own reasons to be angry," he continued softly. "It wasn't her place to dictate the Code to you. Although she knows much of the Jedi, she chose another path long ago."
The silence stretched out between them.
"Rey, are you going to talk to me?" Ben pleaded. He paused, seeming to search for words. "I can't help but feel that a part of your anger is on my behalf."
Rey grunted, but didn't otherwise respond.
Ben chuckled. "You know, when I was your age, I would've given anything for a friend like you. Someone to stand up for me when others saw only darkness. Help them see the good in me." He paused again, and the laughter went out of his voice. "Help me see the good in myself."
Rey uncurled herself and sat up, their shoulders brushing.
"But Rey, I'm not that person anymore. I've made peace with it. I've found a friend who sees the good in me, hide it though I might." He leaned into her shoulder, jostling her slightly. Rey fought the smile that threatened to break over her face. It was a weak, half-formed thing, but seemed to encourage Ben. "And now that I have such a friend, I'd rather see her happy than fighting battles on my behalf."
Rey huffed out a frustrated breath. "Ben…"
"I know it's hard to see it sometimes," he cut her off. "But Leia and Han and Luke all care for you. Sometimes their care just comes in the form of ill-thought-out and condescending advice."
Rey laughed at that, and Ben's expression warmed and softened. "What she said to you was wrong, Rey. Many Jedi have wielded sabers like yours, and if my mother had read a little deeper into our Order's history she would know that. Love and sacrifice are the knife's edge that every Jedi must walk without mis-stepping. You know these things in your heart, though I realize it hurts to have them questioned by someone like Leia."
Rey felt something in her chest unclench at Ben's words. Once could be coincidence, or even twice; three times was a pattern at best, but four times now she had been warned of her inclinations towards darkness. Her visions over Luke's saber could perhaps be written off as half-truths, or Snoke's poisoned honey lies as utter fabrication. The Force on Ilum had been meant to reflect her own fears, or so she had managed to convince herself. But to suffer doubt from one she held so near? Leia's accusations had shaken Rey to her core.
"What if she's right?" she asked in a small voice.
"Rey," Ben sighed. "She isn't. I know you. Better than anyone. Besides, didn't we promise to shield each other from darkness? Have I ever lied to you?"
Rey wracked her memory silently. Ben had a way of turning her flaws into strengths, but he never told kind lies the way others did. He was honest with her, even when it stung. "No," she finally admitted. "You haven't."
"Then believe me when I tell you that I wouldn't lie about this."
Rey chewed her lip in silence. "Okay," she said finally. "I'm sorry."
Ben chuckled. "Sorry for what? I'm not angry, Rey. But we're leaving tomorrow, and you may not see Leia and Han again for months. I know that you'll regret it later if you leave things on bad terms with her."
Rey blinked, befuddled. "Isn't it my job to tell you to talk to your mother?"
Ben's laughter was so loud that it echoed through the suite.
Later, while Ben packed his things, Rey crept silently down the hall to Leia's study. Her knuckles were inches from rapping the doorframe when the sound of hushed voices made her pause. The door panel was cracked open ever so slightly, and a thin beam of light spilled across Rey's feet.
"Luke, something is awakening," Leia murmured. "First the rumors started swirling about him, and now Rey and Ben are acting strangely. You told me yourself that the dark siders from Csilla have been stirring up trouble in—"
"Leia," Luke's voice crackled in the pulsing staccato of hologram communication. "Ben was right that Rey's saber bears no indication of her character. I understand that it reminded you of iconography of Maul, but it simply isn't—"
"That's not the only thing," Leia insisted. "I can feel strong emotions simmering under the surface, for Rey. Yesterday, before she snapped at me, I could've sworn I heard her speaking to someone. But no one was there. Ben was in another system, much too far for a training-bond, stars forbid they create one. I was the only other Force-sensitive in the building, and I have no idea who she could've been communicating with on Chandrila. But someone was giving her advice on creating a weapon, and the next thing I know she appears wielding a yellow saberstaff and starts dueling as if she's been trained by Vader himself."
"Don't call him that," Luke sighed, as if repeating an age-old argument. "His name was—"
"Does it really matter?" Leia cut in. "Don't you find it concerning that—"
"Of course I do," Luke responded, his voice starkly serious. Rey could almost imagine him stroking the short-cropped beard on his chin. "If what you say is true, perhaps I've been foolish in focusing my attention on Ben only. If Rey is involved with other Force-sensitives outside our awareness, it could only mean…"
"Could only mean what?" Leia asked, and Rey was sure she wasn't imaging the fear in the Senator's voice. "You don't think—surely her family…oh, Luke, was it wrong of us to allow them to meet? To inherit such power alone is enough, but together…? I always thought that they would balance one another, or at least find some sense of peace in shared identity, but what if we've created the very scenario we hoped to avoid?"
"Leia—"
Rey leaned slightly closer to the door to catch Luke's next words, and her elbow clipped the wall. Luke's voice immediately cut off. In the silence that followed, Rey desperately backpedaled. Leia can't find me here. She'll know that I was eavesdropping. She'll be even angrier. Oh Force, oh Force, there's nowhere to hide—
The sound of soft footsteps crossing the floor warned her of Leia's approach. The end of the hallway was too far away. Rey froze in place, willing herself silent and invisible, hoping desperately that the shadows might be enough to disguise her outline.
The door opened. Light spilled into the hall. Leia's eyes fixed on Rey. Her heart pounded in her throat.
And then Leia's eyes slid past, scanning in the other direction before she rocked back on her heels with a quite hmm. Over her shoulder, Rey could see the silhouette of Luke's vibrant blue outline.
"There's no one," Leia said. "Perhaps Ben dropped something in his room." She took a step back and sealed the door, cutting off all sound.
Rey stood motionless, her heart still galloping. Slowly, she looked down at her hands, half expecting them to be immaterial. Her calloused palms looked up at her. Was it a dream?
There had been no glimmer of recognition in Leia's eyes; no sign that she had glimpsed a face at her door. Was the Senator secretly blind? Wouldn't she at least have noticed Rey's Force signature?
A memory swam forward out of the depths of her childhood. She was sitting across from Ben in the library. He had a thick book propped open on one of his knees and was reading aloud to her softly. A Jedi might hide herself from enemy eyes through use of Force camouflage, a devilishly challenging ability that bends light and sound to trick the eyes of Force-insensitive enemies. It is contrasted here with its near equivalent, a void in the Force, which renders the Force-signature of a living entity totally invisible to other Force-sensitives. When used in combination the two skills can greatly aid in any mission of stealth…
Rey swallowed hard. Was it possible? Had she unintentionally stumbled upon an ability that neither she nor Ben had ever attempted? If so, the action had been outside any conscious manipulation of the Force. She had simply willed the world to be a certain way, and it had happened. The sense of control was exhilarating.
Her mind dug deeper into the memory, drawing forth the rest of Ben's narration. The two skills can greatly aid in any mission of stealth, but cannot be recommended as a result of the inherent darkness involved in hiding, or inverting one's Force signature. Few amongst the Jedi have ever attempted such an endeavor, as Force voids are a well-known instrument of the Sith, developed primarily to hide the darker elements of one's Force signature from watchful minds.
Rey's feeling of success curdled in her stomach. To inherit such power. The very scenario we hoped to avoid. Inherent darkness. Her victory tasted like bitter ash on her tongue. What else could I make happen, accidentally? she wondered, staring down at her palms in mounting horror.
Who am I?
A/N: Look at that, I'm back, and it hasn't even been two years! Chapter 16, brought to you by this imagined conversation:
Leia: Rey is feeling some strong emotions. I bet they're rage, violence, and hatred. Classic Sith shit.
Rey: *developing a dramatic and embarrassing crush on Leia's oblivious grown son* ummmmmm y-yeah definitely-what she said...
Anyways! This is actually only about 3/4 of what I originally wanted this chapter to be. The rest is going to be posted soon once I finish editing. I'm a little mad because I wanted this whole middle section to be a lot shorter than it is. Hopefully after this chapter there will be one tiny chapter, a normal-sized chapter (maybe Ben's POV?), and then our final time skip! But I have a tendency to ramble on longer than necessary, so we'll see...