Constellations

chapter two:
the cave

"The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek."
― Joseph Campbell

Rey has never thought of the Falcon's cockpit to be roomy, but now it seems far too small. Sitting in the co-pilot seat, Finn's less than a foot away, so close she could reach out and touch him. The food supplies he had found in the far nooks and crannies of the ship are still in their boxes, tucked away near the flying controls and Rey has her injured leg propped up on top of them. He sent out a S.O.S. message, but he's not sure if it was received; Hoth's intense weather might have messed up the signal. But, Finn had pointed out, it won't take long for the Resistance to realize the 2nd Jedi in the entire galaxy has gone missing. Rey wishes he wouldn't discount himself, but she doesn't say so. It's too hard to get words out. It's too hard to do much of anything.

"How's your leg?" Finn asks, after an almost unbearably long stretch of silence, and they're so close she has no trouble hearing him over the wind, although the howl has been receding over the past few hours or so. The snow has shown no signs of stopping though, collecting on the floor below the gaping hole in the Falcon's roof and lining everything else. She's been hoping Finn's silence would hold, but apparently not.

"Better," Rey shrugs. That pill he had given her must have been doing its job.

"And you're warm enough?"

"I'm fine Finn," Rey says softly. "You don't need to worry about me."

"I know, I just can't help it," Finn replies, ducking his head. Rey's first thought is that he's embarrassed, but then she realizes the fear simmering underneath his eyes. The fear he still holds onto, even now, that he'll lose her somehow. She can't bring herself to meet his eyes. "Ever since Kylo..."

Rey turns away from him, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders and sighs. She doesn't need the reminder. It already haunts her in the night, already has permanently scarred her body. She's reminded every time she looks in the mirror, at the jagged scar running down her side. "That was a over a year ago―"

"Before," Finn corrects her. "At Maz's. When I was going to...to leave. But when I ran back, and the Resistance came, I saw Kylo taking you onto his ship and I just...I lost it." He shrugs, his eyes going to her face and then to the floor, flickering back and forth like a candle. A nervous habit, she notes. Is he as uncomfortable as she is?

Rey doesn't know what to say. She doesn't really trust herself to speak, so she lets the silence hang between them before she says, "Once the blizzard dies down, we'll need to find some kind of sanctuary. There should be some caves in the mountains."

"Stormtroopers were trained to survive any environment," Finn says, nodding. "Especially extreme ones. I know a bit since I worked primarily on the Starkiller base, and it was winter there all the time. We didn't have to watch out for Wampas though."

"Wamp―what?" Rey tilts her head to the side. The creature sounds vaguely familiar, and she thinks Luke might've mentioned it once. Something about the cold and Han Solo cutting open a tauntaun?

"You'll know it when you see it," Finn says. "And it'll be no match for your Jedi skills. So, what's Jedi training like anyway?"

"I've made my own lightsaber," Rey reaches towards her belt and pulls out the hilt. The metal seems to hum with energy, activated by her touch only, a light tingle on her fingers. She can feel the power her weapon holds, even more than Luke's lightsaber that while powerful hadn't been crafted by her own hand. This, this is an extension of herself, and her own experience of the Force, in a way that nothing else has never been. Besides, Luke's lightsaber had been wielded by his father, Anakin, and then later on before her, Finn. This lightsaber's felt no one's touch but her own.

This weapon is your life, Luke had said. Keep it close.

With that in mind, Rey clips it to her belt again.

"It took me a few tries to get it right," Rey adds, a trace of fondness in her voice forcing a quirk of her lips, twitching upwards. Few was an understatement, the actual total being 10, but Finn didn't need to know that. There were lots of things Finn couldn't know... "But I finally got it."

"So, why aren't you a fully trained Jedi yet?" Finn asks, studying the hilt of the lightsaber curiously, and then her.

Her heart pounds under his gaze. "A Jedi must be able to master their own emotions," Rey explains, looking away from him. "You see how explosive Kylo is, from the influence of the Dark Side. Master says I still have a little trouble, sometimes, keeping them under control. And with staying patient, too."

After waiting on Jakku in vain for 14 years, Rey's more than tired of waiting. She doesn't want to have to wait any longer, to avenge Han, to take down Kylo, to end the war and hopefully live her life the way she wants. To give Finn the explanation he deserves.

"We also have to learn to let go of attachments," Rey says quietly, her eyes growing sad. A lump forms in her throat. "Jedi are allowed to have them, to some degree, we just can't let them control us..."

Finn frowns at her, and she can see hurt flash across his face. "Well, that's not a problem anymore for you, is it?"

Rey's eyes harden as she swallows the lump in her throat. "Finn, that's not fair."

"If you would just tell me why," Finn says, his voice laced with frustration and hurt. "It's not the attachment thing, I know it's not, because you haven't even looked at me in a year, and you say it's not my fault, but it has to be, somehow. Is it because I told you I-"

"I've told you it's not that," Rey snaps. They've been over this before, but it hurts more every time, so much more than the dull throb of her leg or her head, that pain pales in comparison to the ache growing in her heart. "You know that-"

"I wish I could know that," Finn grumbles. His shoulders slump forwards as his eyes turn downcast. There's a heavy silence, and Rey knows she should be used to silence, growing up alone on Jakku, being left for hours to do meditation and just bask in silence, but it seems to tighten around her throat like a noose.

Finally, after a long moment, Finn looks at up her, his features sad, and guilty too, and it only makes her feel worse. "I'm sorry," he says finally. "That was uncalled for, you―you're right. I... I still want to be your friend, so I have to act like a friend, and I didn't, and I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Rey murmurs. "But it - it has to be this way. For now, at least."

Finn chews on his bottom lip for a moment, and looks up at her, his eyes lit up with cautious hope. "Maybe I can change your mind about that."

"Finn―" she says warningly.

"You can't stop me from trying to get you back, Rey," he says, almost pleading with her. "We'll be stuck here for a week at least...and I - I miss you. I miss my best friend."

She softens, his words cracking her armour, the crevice widening as that hopeful light grows, and she can't bring herself to snuff it out. At least not right now. She ducks her head and turns her eyes away from him. "I...suppose that's true. I can't stop you from trying."

Finn looks slightly satisfied. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." The silence that follows unnerves her, and it takes her a moment to realize why, until she figures out that it actually is silent. The wind's stopped howling. Even the snow, which has left a thick carpet over the metal floor of the Falcon, underneath the gaping hole in the roof, has stopped paused, momentarily at least.

"The First Order'll come soon," Finn says, following her train of thought, and he rises from his chair, stretching. He unslings his blaster from where it's rested on his back with a simple leather band across his chest. "I'm going to go scope out the area, look for caves, and then I'll come back for you, okay?"

"I don't like the idea of you going out alone," she says softly, looking up at him worriedly.

Finn gives her a reassuring smile. "I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone, but I know you can handle yourself. And so can I. Besides, I don't want you walking more than you have to. How else is your leg going to heal?"

Rey frowns, crossing her arms lightly over her chest. "Alright," she says reluctantly. "Just be safe, and―" The words catch her throat and her voice dies down.

And come back to me.

Finn gives her another smile, and she thinks maybe he understands, but before she can find anything else to say over the large lump rising in her throat, he he tugs up the hood of his thick winter coat, and trudges out into the snow. She knows he'll be back. Finn always comes back.

That's part of the problem.

"Rey!"

A joyful laugh spills out of his mouth, which is stretched in a smile as he crosses the landing field. He nearly slams into her as soon as she disembarks from the Millennium Falcon with Luke Skywalker in tow. Finn skids to a halt in front of her, his arms half-raised and he holds them awkwardly in an offer that's anything but half-hearted.

Rey simply shakes her head at his nervousness, a grin spreading across her face as she steps into his arms and hugs him tightly. "It's good to see you." She takes care not to squeeze too hard ―it's been six months since she's seen him last, five since he woke up from his coma from Kylo, his injury healed and his body restored― but she still doesn't want to agitate that wound. She doesn't want to cause him more pain.

Finn nuzzles into her shoulder, his nose pressing into her collarbone. "I missed you so much," he mumbles, the sound muffled, his breath foggy and warm on a sliver of skin that the collar of her vest doesn't cover. His hands are warm and dry, not damp and chilly like the island she and Luke have spent the past six months on, where rain is a common occurrence.

She can't wait to tell him about it. She's fairly positive that Finn's seen rain before, but there's still so much they don't know about the world, and each other, and she can't wait to share all those things with him. She's never had anyone to share anything with before.

"I missed you too," she says, her hands curling the fabric of his jacket. It had once been Poe's, Finn had told her through a holocom. But she's only ever known it as his, felt the loose leather draped across her shoulders briefly on Starkiller Base, and just like his jacket, as much as she loves BB-8 and as much as Luke has become a dear friend to her, Finn is her first. Her best.

Finally, she peels away after what must have been an eternity but really feels like no time at all. "I have so much to tell you!"

"So do I," Finn replies and she thinks he might be incapable of speaking without smiling, and he's shining like stars with a warm happiness that reflected in her own face, and it warms her to her core, starting in her chest and then throughout her whole body.

She's never missed anyone before. She couldn't miss her parents as she couldn't remember them. But Finn...she had thought about him every single day, wondering how his recovery was going, fondly thinking of his smile. They just stare at each other for a moment, drinking in the image of each other ―safe, alive, here― before she realizes they've been doing it for a couple of minutes without saying anything.

Heat rushes to her face. "You first," she says, and her wide grin softens as Finn starts talking a mile a minute, and despite her worries about their friendship ―knowing each other for 3 days in a crazy whirlwind of blasters and disasters, and then six months apart with little to no contact isn't how people usually start off a friendship, is it?― she can more than keep up with him, with his bright eyes and easy smiles. She knows she's missed him, but she doesn't think she let herself feel quite how much she did until suddenly she doesn't have to miss him anymore. Missing people, liking people, and having a friend is a strange, but certainly not unwelcome sensation.

They'll be alright, she feels it in her gut, in the Force, her own energy reaching out to intertwine with his, partially subconsciously, the rest out of choice. His energy reaches back quickly, finds hers and holds on tightly, as they weave together, and it spreads more of that same warmth, and she's never felt happier than she does in this moment...

"Rey?"

She jerks from her slumber, blinking away the bleariness. How could she have been so stupid as to fall asleep? The exertion of the crash must have gotten to her, and irritably, she thinks maybe Jedi training, as hard as it is, has turned her soft. Nothing keeps you more alert than the scorching sands of Jakku.

Luke has said the Force connects to emotions, people, memories, binding them together like the weaving of yarn in the grand tapestry of the universe. That the Force can show her visions of the past, the present, and the future... whether she sought it out or not. This is one of those times she has definitely not done so of her own accord. Now is not the time to be looking back on memories with nostalgia, not when she's already weakened emotionally enough.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she tries to push those dangerous thoughts from her head, ("Do, or do not, there is no try," Luke always says) as she looks up at Finn. "Hmm?" she hums, her voice still groggy from her impromptu nap. The cold settles back into her bones, and she hates the way Finn's soft little smile gives back a piece of warmth, as her cheeks are stained with red.

"I think I found a good cave," he explains. Specks of snow are scattered across his face, dissolving into droplets of water. His boots are caked with snow, and his lips are blue, but he seems alright otherwise. "We better get moving."

"How long were you gone?" Rey asks, pulling herself out of her sleepy daze. The memories make her throat burn, and she'd rather freeze than go in up flames.

"Only an hour at most," Finn shrugs. He takes a few boxes into his arms. "D'you think you'll be able to walk? The pill should have done its job by now."

Cautiously, Rey plants one foot on the ground and her injured ankle doesn't bend under the weight. "I'll be fine," she assures him, and zips up her own winter jacket.

She takes some of their supplies in their arms, and they trek out into the snow together with Finn in the lead. Rey takes special care to make sure she follows in his footsteps, her boots mirroring the holes in the snow his have already made. Walking single file hides your numbers, and hopefully the First Order will assume there's a lot more of them than just the two of them.

The cave Finn leads her to is a small dent in the craggy, snow covered surface of the mountain, low set to the ground yet slightly raised on a snow mound. "Advantage of the high ground," he says, as they stagger up the slippery slope. At least the snow is so thick they can't get to any of the ice, surely buried far underneath, just waiting to trip them up. Still, their boots don't have the best grip. Rey uses the Force once or twice to keep herself balanced, and Finn's larger body mass keeps him from being budged too easily, but they're both panting by the time they reach the crest of the hill and stare into the mouth of the cave. Finn ducks to avoid the slope of the opening, and when they inside, Rey thinks she can see something glittering the dark, thin and white and...

"Are those bones?" she blinks in surprise, after she and Finn have set down their boxes along one wall of stone and ice.

"Wampa bones. Part of the reason I chose this cave. Whatever lived in here is dead, luckily for us," Finn stoops down and picks up a few of the bones. They must have been here for a long time, as any pieces of fur or flesh is gone. Maybe they've been picked clean by something else, a bigger Wampa, Rey wonders. "But their bones are also flammable, I think."

Rey grins. "So, it's the perfect firewood."

Finn smiles back at her and for a moment it feels just like old times. Before everything went wrong. "Exactly."

Rey's smile falters. "Let's get started then."

Once they've set down all their supplies, and gotten the bones into a makeshift fire (the lighter being a quick buzz of Rey's lightsaber) the flickering flames illuminate the dark walls of the cave. Chunks of ice are seared into the wall, glowing a luminescent blue that casts strange shadows over Finn's face.

Rey wonders just how long they'll be in the cave. How long she'll have to wait, until she can let down this front. At least not until Finn is gone. At least not until the war is over.

And, after all, no matter how much she wishes otherwise, she knows all about waiting.