"She had always been beautiful in his eyes, and admirable, too. He had worshipped her, in some ways, for her courage in adversity, for her resistance to the ways of his own world. But that had been bravery under siege and now, it seemed, she single-handedly gave siege to the same society which, a few months before, had threatened to engulf and destroy her identity. There was a determination in her bearing, a lightness, an air of confidence, that proclaimed to everyone what he had always sensed in her - and he was proud that his world should see her as the woman he knew, in full command of herself and her situation. Yet there was, as well, a private knowledge, an intimate understanding between them, of the resources of character on which she drew to achieve that command. For the first time he became conscious of the depth of his love for her and, although he had always known that she had loved him, he became confident that her emotion was as strong as his own. Like her, he required no declaration; her bearing was declaration enough.
Together, they ascended."
Michael Moorcock, the End of All Songs.
She is still here. He wonders how she'd organize her own escape. It would be something reckless, an utter improvisation and thoroughly remarkable.
But she is still here, for whatever reason.
She shows up at that banquet without any verbal dueling, without any opposition. She shunned him all these weeks, but he feels her rage has subsided. Why? Has Luke been visiting her too? Did he convince her to stay here? Stick around for a greater good and finish off the Jedi Killer: it would be poetic, in a way, the Last Jedi killing the Jedi Killer. Did he convince her to shun any physical contact? To uphold to those idiotic Jedi celibacy canons – he has his doubts ever since she stopped him in the corridor to tell him:
"Leave RY-418 alone".
He looks a total asshole this time. Who? What?
Rey looks at him, shocked by the whole scope of his complete and utter exploitative alpha male bullshit.
"The girl, Ren. The Stormtrooper", she frowns, her voice a low growl. "Leave her alone".
But she isn't jealous – this isn't jealousy. She doesn't mind his… needs, she objects the ways he satisfies them. She feels genuine compassion for the soldier. Her compassion is at the same time both annoying and exhilarating. If she had that much compassion for an anonymous Stormtrooper other than that damn turncoat, then she might have pity on him.
Pity – he goes and trains and leaves a hole in the wall where his fist went. His knuckles bleed, and a ligament snaps – he celebrates the anniversary with Bacta bandages on his hand, tucked under his gloves.
He leaves RY 418 alone. But first he promotes her, again. He had enough of her, and so did she of him.
Rey mingles with the civilians after the war mongering part is over. His restless (and sleep – deprived) eyes lurk over her from the opposite part of the hall. As soon as he can, he dismisses his generals and sends ceremonial droids for more Corellian wine for the troops: real wine, not this abominable booze from Mandalore that makes people deranged, wild and drugged.
This decision is met with outmost joy in the troops – they salute and drink to his name time and time again. There is firework and all the rest of that nonsense. He turns his back to all of that and uses Force manipulation to clear the way ahead so he might be with her.
Her beauty transfixes him quite. It aches in his bones.
She's wearing a dark blue coat buttoned up to her throat with intricate silver buttons. It's ankle long and there is a glistening texture underneath in a matching color. She has her hair bound up high in symmetrical braids and Padme's earrings on her earlobes. He thought she detests those after seeing Padme's spirit, but the wonders never seem to end. She's talking to a Sullustan merchant – his insiders know the creature has a long standing sympathy for the Resistance, but is too important in the Sullustan hierarchy to be discarded so quickly. He wants to uphold order, not create chaos.
"It is the task of the First Order to remove the disorder from our own existence, so that civilization may be returned to the stability that promotes progress. A stability that existed under the Empire, was reduced to anarchy by the Rebellion, was inherited in turn by the so-called Republic, and will be restored by us. Future historians will look upon this as the time when a strong hand brought the rule of law back to civilization."
I hope one day you'll understand this.
Rey is curious and has never seen Sullust. She converses with the alien pleasantly and gentle-mannered, and the merchant obviously enjoys her company. She is sipping Corellian wine they served the troops, and she already laughs a little bit too widely even for her own standards. (He loves that laughter.) He swiftly sends the alien merchant away.
"You found something to your own liking", he says and satisfaction permeates his tone.
"Sullust is an interesting place", she says and sips some wine again.
Han Solo's favorite – he wasn't a man of good taste, but this one he had right.
"Let's walk", he wants to show her off to the war barons and the troops, but not too conspicuously – they're not lovers, she is his apprentice. He has turned her to his side.
They step outside the balcony that overlooks two or three vast platforms underneath, crowded with troops. As soon as he appears, the troops applaud him and hail him as the Supreme Leader. They've already eaten and drunken considerably. It's just pitiful how little a simple minded trooper needs to be happy.
He waves at them with an ironically short gesture.
"Don't mock them", she says to him behind his back.
Again that irritating compassion – he turns to her and says:
"Wave back too, Rey. You're celebrating the Empire".
She shakes her head and the intricate earrings swirl around her neck.
"No".
He tenses and pauses for a moment. He was pondering over this wild decision of his for some time. Since she was disarmed, he put her saber away, in a crate, to muffle its annoying Light Side murmurs. He couldn't deal with that thing that emanated so much light, Anakin being redeemed striking the last blow to the heart of the darkness. It still roared around it like a wounded animal, he could hear it too acutely. He deliberated on turning the saber to the Dark Side, but his previous experience was far from satisfying - last time he tried to bleed the light from the saber it nearly killed him and the end result was an unstable matrix. And this core, infused with the ultimate victory of the Light Side, wielded by the very last Jedi – her – is too powerful to so easily give in.
And its owner is not an exception, despite all the loathsome threats he hurled at Luke's ghost.
Her stubbornness inspires him to provoke her in some way – she is not easily swayed nor is she easily broken. Perhaps surprise will work better on her, since everything he did is exactly what she or anyone else could predict would happen. Perhaps he'll make her even duel with him – wouldn't it just be exquisite? The ultimate spectacle for the Empire Day: damn those fireworks and light-sculptures that work mostly on Chiss, anyway. Supreme Leader's death in public eye would be so much more elating.
He turns to her and surrenders her that bastardized two-sided abomination of a saber matter-of-factly. What a waste of a perfectly good kyber crystal – but the shock and awe on her face wipe out his urge to sneer at her weapon.
She takes it slowly and with disbelief.
"Just take it, apprentice", he grunts and she either mishears the title because of her pure amazement or isn't bothered with the game anymore.
But as he surrenders the saber, he realizes – the deep blue color resembles mourning attire, not Empire or the First Order – clever girl. He now pays attention to the details on her coat – the buttons are obviously taken from something considerably older. Very intricate, very solemn – no mockery in that – he's part royalty himself, so he recognizes style and grace immediately. Vintage stuff – Alderaan system engraved on them.
Oh, no, she didn't. That subtle diversion makes him shudder and makes him want to laugh loud and wild. But he can't –he's surrounded with these lower life forms and he is the prisoner of his high position.
Did anyone notice it? Of course not – everyone is tipsy and so self-absorbed. This is not about the Empire, or Mandalore – this is one huge business transaction, war-merchants pushing their agenda in the corners of the vast imperial hall.
But her taunting idealism invigorates him and the scholar in him can't be more delighted with the use of historical references.