The silence in the training room was complete, and the light coming into the room from the few windows was like the water that surrounded the whole island; grey, stormy, and cold. The two men in the room were so quiet that it was easy to miss them at first, lost in the shadows. They sat on the floor, in lotus position. Though they were facing each other each of them had their face hidden under a hood of rough weave. Much time had passed before the elder of the men rose his head and drew down his hood, a gleam revealing the robotic only half hidden under his sleeve.
Skywalker examined the figure before him for several long moments. If only I could reach across the past several years, he thought, and undo all the mistakes. We might be here like this, now, but in peace.
But as the younger man raised his own face and took down his own hood the fantasy was forgotten. It wasn't only the red scar running lengthwise across Kylo Ren's face that spoke of the gulf between them; it was the darkness in his nephew's eyes. For Luke, the most difficult moments weren't when he looked into Ben's eyes and saw only cold darkness. No, it was hardest when he could see the struggle that the man was experiencing, the battle between the light and the dark. Skywalker could see that struggle in his eyes today.
Finally, Kylo Ren spoke. "You were foolish to involve her in this," he spat out, those dark eyes flashing at Skywalker before looking away. "If you care for her, you'd send her away. Her proximity to me only puts her in danger."
How his mind circles around her, Skywalker thought, not for the first time, worrying at her like a knot he simply can't untie.
"Were you not coming here to kill her?" Luke asked. "And yet, now you are concerned for her safety. " Ren only tossed his dark hair in a frustrated shake of his head; a denial of his concern.
"You would have me send her away, then," Skywalker said sedately. " As she was sent away before-a measure that failed to ensure her safety."
He was rewarded with a glare.
"The question is, will you tell her who she is?" Skywalker asked. "Will you tell her that you hid this from Snoke even after you suspected it? What will you say when she asks you why?"
At this, Ren rose to his feet. "I did not reveal who she was because I was unsure," he snapped. "Your speculation otherwise is unwarranted." He spun on his heel and stalked from the training room, grabbing his warm, wool cloak where it was hanging on an ancient nail. Drawing it around himself, he headed out into the wilds of the island. It was a rough place, having been abandoned thousands of years ago by the Jedi knights who had built it. The knights who had lived here had been formidable people, able to live for months at a time with no contact from the outside world. They had sustained themselves on the island, raising their own farm animals, making their own beer, honey, and coaxing vegetables from the hard soil. It had been a hard, difficult life, but they had been the first to cultivate the Force and in this place they had developed what would come to be known as the Jedi code, which would rule their kind for over a thousand generation.
Until his grandfather helped murder them all.
Ren pushed that thought aside as the wind howled off the ocean, cold and unforgiving. He headed towards a grove of small trees, where the wind would be less direct. As he entered the small pine forest, he breathed a sigh of relief as the temperature warmed a few degrees. Dry needles were soft underneath his boots, and the forest was blessedly silent.
Ben Solo had been raised in the city. In many cities, actually, always going from place to place with his mother as she traveled to build support for the Resistance. As a child and teenager he had been told over and over that he was lucky, being able to see so much of the known galaxy. He had nodded, agreeing always, but in his secret heart he had longed for something like this; a quiet, simple place. Capital cities were loud, divisive scenes where disorder reigned. There had been so many unfamiliar hotel rooms, borrowed apartments, unknown nanny after nanny. When his Uncle Luke had told him stories of Tatooine, stories of a small desert planet where nothing much happened, Ben Solo had been jealous. He had always yearned to live in a place where nothing much happened.
Ren walked several hundred feet into the forest, coming finally to a tree that was taller than all those around it. He had stopped here on previous walks. Usually, this grand being stilled something inside of him, a gnawing feeling inside of his chest. But today he continued to feel agitated, even after closing his tired eyes and leaning his aching forehead against the rough bark of the tree.
He could feel it. The crest of a wave, riding towards him. It had been haunting him for weeks now. It was a tidal wave of pain, regret, and sorrow. It had been building for many years, growing stronger with each evil deed committed. It had drawn much closer now in the wake of his most recent atrocity-the murder of his father, Han Solo. He knew that he could not survive this wave; that if he left it envelop him he would surely drown in it. As it drew close, he felt a dry sob rack his body. What's happening to me? He thought desperately. I can't let myself be pulled apart this way. In response, he ground his forehead into the bark of the tree and felt pain flare as the soft tissue of his healing scar was ripped open. The pain blossomed and he whimpered, but in that moment felt cleared of his weakness and the wave receded.
A sounded behind him-a gasp. He whirled around, drops of blood leaking down his forehead.
Rey stood several feet from him, her eyes wide with her own regret. "I'm sorry," she spoke so quickly the words stumbled over themselves. "I wasn't spying, I was just walking in the woods and turned the corner and there you were and I'll just go-"
She fell silent, struck by the expression on his face. He was suddenly so tired, too tired to be enraged at her or to care what she thought of him or to wonder if she had heard him there sobbing in the forest.
"You're hurt," she said, gesturing at his face. "You're bleeding."
"Yes," he responded, making no move to do anything about it.
She hesitated, then reached behind her into her satchel. She made a few steps towards him, then a few more. "I have-here." She tried to hand him a clean bandage, but he only looked down at her hands and then back at her, numb. She knit her eyebrows together and hesitated again. Then, taking a deep breath, as if gathering her courage, she stepped in close to him and, reaching up, held the clean towel against his forehead.
"What happened?" she asked. He shook his head, mute. His eyes were utterly unreadable, and darker and deeper than she had ever seen.
They had been this close, before, many times. They had been closer, of course, on the training mat, and on the Star Destroyer, and when they were trying to kill each other on Starkiller Base. But they had never been close before and still, at peace. Ren had never noticed before that her eyes weren't brown-they were hazel, with warm flecks of gold and green. She had never, of course, had cause to be gentle with him before, as she was being now.
"You're...being kind to me." His voice was soft, and cautious, as it had been the day before when he was apologizing. She looked at him, startled, finding that she could read his expression now. There was wonder in those fathomless eyes, as he gazed down at her. He pressed his hand to hers where she was holding the bandage to his forehead. She heard him exhale, shakily, and felt the warmth from his breath touch her face. She felt, for one wild second, how easy it would be to take one step closer, to turn her face up towards his, to twist her fingers into his curls, to pull his lips down to hers...
"Right," she said. With heat flaming in her cheeks she stepped back, slipping her hand out from under his, leaving him holding the bandage on his own. "I've got to prepare for our lesson. I'll see you in the training room." He didn't reply; his expression shifted again to darkness as pulled away.
He watched her retreat. And knew, for certain, that she had to be sent away.