A/N: Alright, you actually get a lightsaber duel in this chapter - I know, it's what you've all been waiting for!

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed!
***

Ben still hadn't fully decided what to do about the problematic Resistance.

As such, he was avoiding Anya as much as he possibly could. She would undoubtedly bring up the topic again, as determined as she was to apparently test him. Though what the purpose of the test was, he was still figuring out.

Avoiding her had proven easier than he assumed, thanks in large part to the fact that he had spent the majority of the past nine days answering Rey's countless questions about the Force: How it worked, what exactly you could do with it, why there was such a distinction drawn between light and dark.

Her incessant questioning proved to be a welcome distraction from the battle still being waged in the deep recesses of his mind. Neither force seemed to be gaining any ground, locked as they were in a fairly-even fight. Still, he tried not to focus too hard on the sounds of battle as it was all-too-easy to be dragged in. Knowing his luck, he would likely spend another few days unconscious if he again tried to assess his mental state.

So, for now at least, he was barely functioning.

Though, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, he was grateful to be functioning at all.

Rey's persistent distrust of his knights made him wary, watching for any sign of disloyalty to the point of paranoia. It hardly mattered if his mind fractured more due to this new source of suspicion, as long as Rey was safe.

In an effort to ensure her safety, he had gotten into the habit of placing a small, inconspicuous Forcefield outside her chamber door at night. While he could have easily taught Rey how to construct one herself so as not to drain his own strength, he found he preferred keeping the task his own. This way, he would know even before their Force bond kicked in if she was in danger.

As she had yet to bring up the Forcefield - and he was positive she would have had some strong words for him about how she could protect herself - he was confident that Rey had yet to realize what he was doing.

For the past few days, Rey had been pestering him to let her train with whatever lightsaber Anya had given her - though where Anya had managed to find a double-bladed lightsaber was a question he had been continuously wanting to ask, except that he would have had to speak to Anya in order to get any answers.

So, in order to appease Rey, he had finally agreed last night that he would show her some of the forms of lightsaber combat.

Now, in the harsh heat of the early morning, he wished he hadn't been so quick to agree.

"No," he sighed wearily, pointing toward the staff that he had made her fetch off of the Falcon. "Start with that - I don't want you accidentally chopping off part of yourself."

I'm already exhausted and we haven't even begun - this does not bode well. Lately, it had been getting harder to hide his fatigue from Rey, bonded as they were. As much as he tried to keep his thoughts from drifting across their connection when he didn't want them shared, it was infinitely more challenging to control which emotions of his she was able to feel.

Thankfully, she was too annoyed with his order at the moment to recognize how tired he was. "You do realize I've used a lightsaber before, right?" She demanded, hands tightly gripping her staff. "In fact, I seem to remember beating you."

He understood that she was simply trying to goad him into letting her train with a lightsaber. "Yes, I remember." That confrontation was nigh impossible to forget - the scar served merely as a reminder of his failure.

Bare hand shielding his eyes from the glaring sun, he surveyed the courtyard in an attempt to determine the best location for Rey to practice her drills. Somewhere shaded would be preferable - I don't want her to die due to heat exhaustion.

Unfortunately, the only heavily-shaded area of the courtyard lay directly under a crumbling section of tower. He wasn't too keen on having Rey crushed by falling debris.

Large sections of the courtyard were cracked down to the foundation and completely unusable.

The only other option available was the wide-open middle portion of the courtyard itself. But even at dawn, the light-brown stone flooring was already baked from the sun. The ancient Sith, it seemed, hadn't been too concerned with comfort. What a shock.

"The first thing you need to know about lightsaber combat," he began, directing a rather petulant-looking Rey to the middle of the courtyard, "is that there are seven forms, each tailored to a different fighting style."

"Normally," he continued, ignoring the steadily-increasing dull ache in his head, "your training would begin with learning the first three forms - Shii-Cho, a highly simplistic form that is utterly useless in lightsaber duels; Makashi, which is a bit more complicated than Form I and is mainly used in lightsaber vs lightsaber combat; and Soresu, which relies heavily on defense, sometimes to the detriment of offensive strikes. However, since you already have a little," high emphasis on little, Rey, "training, I'm going to start you with Form VI and see how you do."

From a completely impractical standpoint he would have preferred to teach Rey Soresu, if for no other reason than keeping her safe - if she was solely on the defensive, it would be much easier for him to watch her in battle as she would primarily be standing in one place.

However, knowing Rey's reckless nature, he knew it would be idiotic not to teach her how to be the best duelist she could be, given that she would likely charge the enemy even if he only taught her defensive skills. And, as much as he might wish it, he knew it was impossible to constantly be at her side.

So, against his illogical - and possibly emotional, though he would never admit to that - desires, he spent the next hour instructing Rey how to use Form VI.

The Niman form had been perfected by Sith Lord Exar Kun when he crafted the first double-bladed lightsaber. Ironically, however, the form itself had been designed by the Jedi as a way to combat the "overly-aggressive" techniques in Forms IV and V, primarily used the by Sith since they relied more on power and brute strength rather than a conscientious, moderate view that held better to the Jedi philosophy. After all, 'power' was not a Jedi-friendly term.

Ben found he was grateful that Rey didn't question how he knew each of the forms so well - teaching her was hard enough without memories of his Jedi training pricking at his mind.

Form VI was Krillien's form of choice, though it also had been the one that Luke had tried to teach all of his students - after the basics of the first three forms had been mastered. Unfortunately, much of their training in the Nimon style had been cut short due to a wholly unplanned, sort-of accidental massacre.

It had been rather frustrating having to figure Form V out for himself since Skywalker had absolutely refused to even teach him the basics. In hindsight, it probably should have been more obvious from the beginning that I didn't fit in with the strict, harmonious Jedi ways.

Ultimately, it had been Skywalker's refusal to instruct him in a form which Luke himself had often utilized that had led Ben to realize how hypocritical the old man truly was.

Snoke, on the other hand, had been all too willing to encourage his training in the much more aggressive, Sith-minded forms.

He had never managed to fully grasp the complexities of Form VII - it wasn't so much that the emphasis on power or the combination of the best portions from all of the other forms proved too difficult. Rather, it had become increasingly evident that he was simply too reckless for the precision Juyo demanded.

Perhaps he could have learned Form VII better if he had more of a stable control over his emotions.

"How long -" Rey panted, leaning wearily on her staff, "do I have to practice these drills?"

His eyes slid away from the dusty crags he had unknowingly been observing for the past ten minutes and critically took in Rey's sweat-drenched form. Loose strands of brown hair clung to her face and neck. Though her body must have been aching by this point, her crystal-clear blue eyes were still alight with that accursed, ever-present spark of hope. Of warmth. Of light.

Maybe he was pushing her too hard.

He would not train her to be a Jedi, but he could teach her enough to survive. Surely sharing those small bits of knowledge wouldn't tear at his soul.

"Ben?" Cautiously, she poked at his consciousness with all the sophistication of an aggrieved child.

Or maybe he wasn't pushing her hard enough. After all, she had been the one to bring up lightsaber training in the first place.

But if he was actually going to trust her to hold her own in a battle then she needed to be prepared.

If she was truly concerned with keeping him safe - for some inexplicable reason, it seemed to be her current driving focus - then he needed to be absolutely certain that she wouldn't prove to be deadweight.

"Do you want to take a break or are you just bored of the repetition?" He asked briskly, covering for his momentary lapse.

She scowled in reply, somehow attempting to tighten her grip on the slick staff.

Ben understood why she was truly unhappy, but there was no way he was going to allow her to practice any of these forms with an actual lightsaber. Not yet.

Doesn't she realize you can't just pick it up and start swinging?

"You've barely been out here for an hour," he said, amused by her stubbornness. "I know it's tedious work, but you'll be grateful for the endurance during a battle."

"Besides," he mentally added, figuring Rey would be able to pick up on his thoughts since he didn't try particularly hard to shield her from them, "we used to train for five hours a day. Be grateful I'm not making you do that."

"Five hours?" Her disbelief was palpable, "That's ridiculous."

"Two hours in the morning practicing basic drills, two hours in the afternoon learning new skills, and one hour in the evening to ensure we retained the day's lessons."

"Did you ever do anything besides train?" She questioned, a warm sense of harmless curiosity floated across their bond. "I mean, I know Snoke-"

"No," he interrupted quickly, unwilling to discuss the rigorous, oftentimes-painful training regimine his former master had devised. Rey worried about him enough as it was - she certainly didn't need those memories of his clogging up her mind. "The five-hour schedule was my uncle's philosophy on lightsaber training."

If the way Rey's already luminescent Force presence brightened at his words was any indication, she had caught his slip-up seconds after he himself had.

Damn. Until recently - the past few months ever since Rey had first entered his life, really - he had encountered few problems distancing himself from the majority of his family and their suffocating legacy.

But around Rey, it was harder to hide that part of himself.

It most certainly didn't help that she often thought about General Organa and Han Solo - he resolutely refused to refer to them by any other term. Especially not seconds after he had messed up and called Skywalker his uncle.

"You should keep practicing," he instructed, attempting to keep his voice as even as possible.

He knew Rey felt him withdraw his consciousness. She didn't say anything, but the pained expression on her face was all too easy to read.
***

The next half-hour ticked by slowly.

Tension lay thick in the air. Whether the tension originated between himself and Rey as a result of him purposely blocking her from entering his mind, or whether it came from the steadily-increasing pressure deep inside his own consciousness, Ben could not tell.

"It's impressive how quickly she's picking this up," Tahl commented appraisingly. "But, of course, she has a good teacher."

Ben glanced at the energetic young man standing a few paces away out of the corner of his eye, but made no reply. I only taught her the basics, he wanted to say, she just has natural talent. Of course, natural talent could only take a person so far - his entire family was living proof of that.

As Tahl stepped closed, Ben was infinitely grateful that Rey could not listen in on their conversation. "Any word from Serie concerning the Resistance?" he questioned, making sure to keep his voice as quiet as possible.

"Not yet," Tahl replied, lowering his naturally loud and vibrant tone to match Ben's.

"When you next communicate with him," Ben responded, glancing warily at Rey to ensure she was still otherwise occupied, "make certain you stress that this mission is reconnaissance only. He is not to engage any of the rebel fighters." Rey would never forgive me if I ordered the destruction of her friends. "Am I clear?"

"I will ensure he understands his mission parameters, Sir."

Ben knew he was risking a heated confrontation with Rey if she found out that he was considering the fate of her beloved Resistance. Though he was constantly befuddled by her unshakable loyalty to a group of people she had met only months prior, he understood that, if forced to choose between the Resistance or him, she would always choose her allies.

Which was precisely why he had only sent Serie as a spy - to gather intelligence so that he could make a more informed decision.

Perhaps it was only delaying the inevitable. But he would do whatever was required to spend as much time with Rey as possible before their divisive philosophies again drove them apart.

He was, however, unwilling to simply let the Resistance continue to thrive.

After all, if it hadn't been for Rey and her unexpected interference in his life, the Resistance would have been demolished months ago.

The thought of another New Republic somehow rising from the ashes was physically sickening.

"Ben?" As the sapphire glow of her consciousness came into view, he hastily scattered his previous thoughts, letting his rampant emotions die down into a simmering pool of mock calmness that he hoped would be convincing enough.

"Everything alright?" If Tahl hadn't been present in the courtyard, Ben might have smiled. Rey's hesitant, yet ever-present concern had that effect on him.

"You shouldn't allow yourself to become so easily distracted," he reprimanded.

Inwardly, where only he and Rey could see, he grimaced as Rey twisted a bit too far on one of her practice parries and the staff slammed into her ankle. "And if you had been training with a lightsaber, you would have just lost your foot."

Even when her momentary embarrassment turned into annoyance at him for his comment, Ben did not regret pointing out her flaw - Rey had to understand the extreme ramifications that could occur with even the most minor of errors in form.

"I've used lightsabers before," she reminded him, completely unnecessarily. "I won't mess up like this in battle - it's different."

"You're right," he responded tersely. "In battle, everyone is trying to kill you. You'd be doing them a favor by chopping off your own limbs by accident."

Rey huffed in frustration. Disregarding all form stances, she straightened and fixed him with a heated glare. "That's not what would happen and you know it."

"I feel as if I'm interrupting something," Tahl spoke up from where he leaned against one of the many crumbled, black pillars framing the courtyard.

"You are!" Rey mentally snapped in response.

Ben had to agree with the sentiment, even as he welcomed the intrusion because he had appearances to maintain.

"You know," Tahl continued, ignoring the tension permeating the air though he had to have felt it, "it's been awhile since I've had a proper duel." he said, fidgeting with the curved handle of his lightsaber even as he glanced at Ben, the challenge clear.

Ah kriff it.

As soon as the challenge had been stated, there was no way to reject the proposal without appearing weak.

And Kylo Ren was not weak.

Tahl, fully knowing that his challenge could not be refused, had immediately begun moving out into the middle of the courtyard after positing the idea. "Plus, your apprentice gets the opportunity to see an actual lightsaber duel - it'll help bring those abstract practice drills into the realm of more practical knowledge."

Rey was visibly shaking with anger. "You can't do this, Ben. You aren't even healed yet!"

Ben ignored her gnawing fear as best he could without completely blocking her out. "It's fine. This isn't actually a fight to the death - I just have to win. And I will."

If there was one thing in his life that he constantly had confidence in, it was his ability to win a duel. Notwithstanding that first battle with Rey, he reluctantly reminded himself.

Rey reluctantly stepped off to the side. Ben noticed how she tightened the grip on her lightsaber handle: The message was clear.

But it was not a message he could afford to send.

"You will not interfere, Rey." As much as his tone signified the words to be a command, his emotions told an entirely different story - one that Rey would be more willing to adhere to.

She had to understand why he was doing this: How his reasons went so far beyond pride. If he faltered now, he would appear weak. If he was weak, then he was vulnerable. If he was vulnerable, then he might as well be dead.

At least if something were to happen to me, Krillien is still around and he'd protect Rey.

Tahl likely would as well, considering he was technically Krillien's apprentice. Still, Krillien was the one Ben trusted, not Tahl.

"I only have one rule for this duel - besides the obvious one of neither of us killing the other," Ben commented, unclipping his lightsaber. "Before we begin, you need to explain the benefits of Makashi so that my apprentice," he ignored Rey's flare of disdain for the phrase, "can understand what it is she's about to witness."

Tahl nodded, already warily eyeing the lightsaber in Ben's right hand.

An attack could come when you least expected it.

"And how, exactly, are you going to keep from killing one another?"

"Low-power mode," Ben replied.

"There's a low-power mode and you still won't let me practice with a lightsaber?" Rey scoffed in annoyance.

"I don't trust it." The words weren't entirely a lie - he didn't trust his own blade's low-power mode as it was hardly ever switched on. But that was apparently a chance Tahl was willing to take.

He especially didn't trust the setting on a lightsaber that Rey had acquired from a source he did not know.

"Also," Ben directed to Tahl, idly adjusting his grip on the saber's handle, "when you lose, I expect a detailed description as to why your form failed."

Wisely, Tahl did not raise to the bait. After all, he had never beaten Ben before and was unlikely to start doing so now.

It was times like these, with his head pounding and unnatural splotches of color dancing wildly before his eyes, that Ben was grateful for his high threshold for pain. It had taken years of intense suffering to reach this point, but it was worth it to know that very few injuries - unless they were extremely severe - would be able to distract him during a fight.

"Makashi," Tahl began, easily falling into the side stance common to the form, lightsaber held in a downward angle in his dominant left hand, "is arguably the most effective of the seven forms to use when fighting other Force users. It relies mostly on careful footwork and clean, precise strikes."

"You can win this, right?" Rey's concern once again bubbled to the surface of his mind.

His only reply was to ignite his lightsaber.

The glare from the red sun high above in the sky illuminated the courtyard, casting eerie shadows from the ruined temple's towers.

"It's all in the wrist, really," Tahl proclaimed, flicking his red blade upwards in salute before once again dropping into stance.

Ben didn't give him the chance to prepare any further. With speed lent by the Force, he dashed forward, his strong overhead strike cut through Tahl's defense on impact.

Only years of training and heightened reflexes kept Tahl in the fight. Sliding backwards on his feet, Tahl brought up his lightsaber in a fluid arc and parried quickly.

Under normal circumstances, Ben might have been tempted to draw out the conflict simply as an excuse to refine his own skills. But with his fatigue already threatening to cripple him, he knew it was unwise to toy with the determined young man.

So, for each calculated, precise thrust Tahl made, Ben pushed back with a powerful counterstrike of his own, relying on his instincts rather than wasting precious time thinking through his attacks. Lightsaber combat was not the place to think about anything other than survival.

His crimson blade hummed excitedly each time it made contact with the dull, pinkish hue of Tahl's saber.

Each time their blades clashed, Tahl was forced to fall back into a defensive stance, keeping his lightsaber a blur of color as he desperately blocked the much heavier strikes from his opponent.

Ordinarily, Tahl would have been trying to press his own offense, feinting blows and redirecting the slower attacks of his adversary. But the blows from Ben's lightsaber were too strong for him to easily redirect.

Ben took full advantage of his superior strength, pressing the attack by repeatedly hammering down on Tahl's defenses, getting in far closer than was normally recommended.

Due to the flexible grip on the saber's handle, Makashi was famous for its resistance to disarmament.

However, Makashi's grip had never been intended - as the designers would likely never have encountered it - to defend from a lightsaber with crossguards.

It was a tricky maneuver - nigh impossible when facing an opponent with a double-bladed saber. Normal disarmament relied on a flurry of attacks followed by a quick flick of the wrist when the opponent's defenses were temporarily down.

Ben's way was much more dangerous. Most sane people would never have tried it.

Instinctively sensing the feint of Tahl's leftward parry, Ben moved his own saber upwards where he knew Tahl's blade would actually land.

For the briefest of seconds, the top quarter portion of Tahl's less vibrant saber lay directly between the main beam of energy and the right crossguard of Ben's lightsaber.

Ignoring the hum of Tahl's saber far too close to his left shoulder for comfort, Ben placed all his remaining strength into twisting his own blade harshly to the right. Tahl's grip on his lightsaber was too loose from the barrage of attacks for him to properly retain his hold.

The shorter saber went flying through the air, careening sharply to the left as it landed on the ground, cutting swaths out of the stone flooring as it skidded on its path.

Recognizing his defeat, Tahl quickly stepped backwards out of the possible reach of Ben's lightsaber. "I surrender," he panted, eyeing Ben's still-ignited blade with unease.

"As well you should," Ben responded, barely keeping himself upright as he fell back a few paces and powered down his saber.

"I told you I would win," he commented to Rey, hoping she wouldn't be able to hear the overwhelming exhaustion in his thoughts.

Oddly, she didn't respond. Her emotions buzzed by too quickly for him to focus on without drawing attention to their Force bond.

As Tahl summoned his now unignited lightsaber back to his hand, he recalled the other half of their deal. "I lost," he said, turning to face an impassive Rey, "because Djem So - the variation of Form V that your master commonly uses - is able to to overpower Makashi in a way that no other form is capable of doing."

"I understand," Rey replied, much too heavily for Ben's liking. Understand what, exactly?

Tahl nodded in response, content that he had fulfilled his side of the bargain, and reentered the temple without another word.

Ben desperately hoped he didn't look nearly as exhausted as he felt.

True, he had won just as he knew he would, but the duel had been far closer than it ought to have been. Though Tahl was highly-skilled in Form II and, consequently, had the advantage of speed, Djem So - as a variant of Form V which was much more reliable in direct lightsaber combat than its Shien counterpart - was often successful in breaking through any defense, no matter how well put together.

Rey was unusually quiet.

Her thoughts hovered at the edge of his mind like a cloud laden with too many thoughts to properly express.

Perhaps she was still concerned. "I told you I would win," he prompted again, hoping his facade of confidence would detract from the sudden heaviness of her emotions.

"You did," she agreed, still not glancing his way.

Ben began to turn away with the intent of heading back into the ruined temple."So-" He froze - the eerie, calm tone of Rey's voice contrasting harshly with her feelings of thinly-veiled panic and concern.

What happened? Did I miss something?

He could sense that Rey had come to a startling realization, though what this realization might have been, he had no idea.

Had she somehow found out that he had sent Serie to spy on the Resistance?

Did she know he was contemplating eliminating them all?

Would she leave before he had a chance to explain?

But he couldn't offer an explanation as to why he was considering killing her friends, not one that would prove satisfactory to her, anyway.

If she left now, would he ever see her again?

What if -

"You let me win."

With those four words, it was as if his brain forgot how to function properly. "...What-"

She interrupted before he could question what she meant, before he could deny anything. "Back on Starkiller Base - you let me win."

Excuses lay thick on his tongue: He had been injured; he hadn't expected her to fight back; he had been distracted by a million other things.

"Why?" The question was a simple one, but the resolved expression on Rey's face told Ben that she already knew precisely why. She just wanted him to admit it.

But that was not something he could do. So he remained silent, hoping that she would drop the issue.

He ought to have known her better than that.

She approached him carefully, as though he were a wounded animal who might bolt at the slightest provocation. Maybe he would.

Her eyes were filled with an emotion he was incapable of comprehending as she gazed at his scar. A reminder of his failure.

"You wanted me to kill you that night."

Even without their Force connection allowing her to read his twisting emotions, she likely would have been able to tell by his carefully emotionless expression that her assessment was all-too accurate.

But there was no way he could defend himself. He didn't want her to understand this side of him - not when she still had such brilliant light shining through her. Not when she still had so much to live for.

His eyes dropped down to the lightsaber still gripped tightly in her right hand, unable to bare the emotions so prevalent on Rey's face.

He had never taken a close look at the lightsaber Rey had until now.

Thin, black engravings marked the handle's best hand grip. The rest of the handle was so stunningly polished, it appeared almost white in color, though he knew it was an incredible light gray. From the way Rey was holding in with the top facing upwards, he couldn't make out the small emblem depicting the owner's house crest on the other side, but he knew it was there.

"Where did you get that lightsaber?" Even to him, his words sounded distant, dazed.

Rey frowned at the sudden change in topic so he repeated his question, this time with a bit more panic slipping through.

"Anya gave it to me," she responded, looking at him questioningly.

"Anya?" Why did she have it?

Rey's frown deeped and she stepped closer out of concern. "...Didn't I just say that? Is something wrong, Ben?"

"That's not possible," he whispered. His lungs felt much too tight. "He would never part with his lightsaber."

"He?"

"It's a shame, really, that your mind has become so corrupted that you no longer remember that day. I enjoyed it immensely." Ben flinched as Snoke's voice slithered across his consciousness.

Not again.

"Sorry, Ben." Luke's voice was distant, barely distinguishable from the roaring of his own blood pumping furiously through his veins. "I held him off as long as I could. It's up to you now."

"Ben?" Rey's free hand gripped his arm - she was trying to anchor him. No doubt she had felt the change in Force atmosphere as the assault on his still tattered mind renewed.

The memory to which his former master had been referring rushed back into his mind, released from imprisonment with the sole purpose of causing him pain.

As the memory pulled his consciousness back to the past, he sincerely wished - for the first time - that he and Rey were not bonded. She shouldn't have to see this.

Krillien.

"I'm sorry."
***

A/N: It must be Christmas - either that or we're getting to the climatic portions of the story - because the next chapter is shaping up to be pretty long, as well. Oh yeah, and you get another lightsaber fight.
Please keep the comments coming - you readers are seriously amazing and I'm glad you're enjoying reading this story as much (hopefully) as I'm enjoying writing it.