A note from your humble author: This is the last chapter before I disappear for the weekend. There won't be another update until Monday or Tuesday, but the good news is – we're finally in Lemon territory! Mmmmm lemons. Don't say I didn't warn that they were coming!

Thank you to all the new people who are reading, following, favoriting and reviewing. You guys give the best feedback, and I'm particularly curious to see what you think about this chapter, as I know some of you have waited patiently just for me just to get up to this point, so of course I hope it's been worth your wait. Let me know what you think!

Dantooin seemed quiet. Occasionally she could sense small animal life scurrying through the brush around her campfire, probably nosing around to the scent of her food, but too timid to come out of the shadows. She sat by her campfire and listened to the breeze sway the boughs of the trees. R2 was resting in low-power mode. She would wake him when it was time to leave. She had been waiting a day and a half, but she knew he was coming, she could sense him getting closer.

At last she saw a ship pass overhead, and she knew that it was Kylo Ren's command shuttle. She released a breath of relief, she could feel that he had come alone, but that didn't mean that he wasn't still dangerous, or that he wouldn't still try to capture or kill her. She had to be on her guard, but she also knew she had to make a part of herself vulnerable to him as well, or he may never open up enough to let her in, and this time, she was determined to learn the truth.

Kylo Ren's shuttle operated more easily with a copilot or a small crew, but it was not impossible for him to manage the controls on his own. He did not want anyone to know the nature of his disappearance. He had purposely avoided Hux when he left and only gave a very brief message for Captain Phasma that he would be away on a brief mission, and that if the Supreme Leader or anyone else important asked for him, that he would return shortly. Then he removed all the tracking devices that he could find in his ship. He was confident that this time he would capture her, this time he would make her see the power of the darkside, but there was still that nagging doubt. She would not put herself in such a vulnerable position. She would not make it so easy. He could not afford to fail, and if he did, he could not afford to be found out.

He knew the Supreme Leader would demand to know where he had been, and truthfully he was struggling to think up a convincing lie to explain his disappearance should he come back empty handed, but he tried not to think about that scenario. He was certain he would not return empty handed, and then there would be no need for deceptions. His master would be pleased to see him return with his prize.

He managed to land the shuttle somewhat ungracefully as he struggled to operate all the controls on his own. She was here.

He could see the light of her campfire glowing in the distance and so he stalked silently through the woods.

When he finally passed through the trees into her camp, he saw her gazing up at the stars, wrapped warmly in her cloak. Her hood was up but he could see several strands of hair had blown loose from her braid and were waving across her face in the gentle breeze. He ignited his saber.

She did not startle, nor did she reach for her saber staff, she just turned and regarded him with the firelight warm in her eyes.

"I did not call you here to fight with you, Kylo Ren. Will you at least hear me out?"

His anger flared. He should listen to nothing. He should take what he came for. She would seduce him into the light. "Don't be weak," he thought to himself.

"Why have you called me here?" he asked, his saber still sparking erratically in his hand.

She sighed. She could sense his anger and frustration, and she knew he would not make any of this easy. "Because I still need the truth. There are things I need to know, and you're the only one who can tell me. Please. I'm not here to harm you or fight you. I just want to speak with you. Won't you please hear me out?"

He powered off his saber, and she felt a little more relieved, though she was no less on her guard. "Will you take off your mask?"

"No."

She pursued her lips in irritation. "I don't want to hold a conversation with you through a filter! Please," she added, "there is no one else here."

She could hear a frustrated sigh come from him through that filter, but eventually he reached up and popped the mechanism that released the mask. He removed it and tucked it under one arm and placed his saber back in its holster. She was thankful for the small progress she had made so far. She tried to not let herself be disturbed by his unusual face. His face was always an enigma that confused her. When she first saw him she was shocked. She expected a monster, a villain, or at least what she could imagine a villain to look like, but instead he was a young man, with dark sad eyes, a nose too large for his face, but which was somehow endearing and masculine, a few scattered freckles and moles, and luxurious black waves of hair. His face was still the same, except now he bore the bright red scar where her saber had cut into him that night on Starkiller. It seemed to glow in the firelight. She cursed him for being so human. It was so much easier to hate the mask, and she knew that that was why he wore it. But right now she needed to see that human, that man with the dark lonely eyes. If she was going to learn anything from him tonight, she would have to reach beyond his deception of villainy, and look into the part of him that was buried underneath the darkness.

"I'm sure you could give a damn less about me, or what the First Order has cost me, but I grew up starving and alone on an inhospitable desert planet, because I believed that someday my family would return for me. But they couldn't, they died after they left me on Jakku. I felt it at the time, but wouldn't let myself believe it because the belief that they could come back was the only thing that kept me alive all those years. It was all I had. I know who the Knights of Ren are. I know what they do, what they've done. It was sixteen years ago, were you even one of them yet?"

She watched as his eyes went from curious to angry and cold. "I would have been about fifteen years old, not quite a boy, not yet a man. Oh yes, I remember life at that time," he said, his non-filtered voice sounding bitter. "It was the year I crushed Skywalker's Jedi academy. It was the year I took up my rightful place in the darkside."

He watched as her eyes began to shimmer with moisture. He could feel her pain as she struggled not to show her emotion, and he was suddenly overcome with a longing for her.

"I have blood on my hands, but Luke's academy would be the only blood until I was about seventeen. Destroying the academy was only my initiation into the darkside. I still had much to learn. I spent the next two years under the watchful tutelage of Supreme Leader Snoke. I did not join the rest of the Knights of Ren in their regular duties until after that, and it was three more years after that before I rose to Master of the Knights of Ren. If they really died sixteen years ago, it is not possible that I personally would have been the one to have destroyed them."

She couldn't stop a few tears from escaping her eyes. Her emotions were in such an uncomfortable confusion. Part of her wanted it to be him. He would just be so easy to blame. He was already so easy to hate. She told herself he was still worthy of her hate. So what if he personally hadn't taken her parents lives? He was still a Knight of Ren, a darkside user who specializes and admits in taking the lives of innocent force-sensitives. Maybe not her family, but someone's family! He was still a servant of the First Order, an organization that had murdered billions, and most of all, he was still the puppet for Snoke, the most evil creature in all the galaxy. Whether he directly killed her parents, or not, she still had every reason to hate him.

Buy yet a moment of doubt passed over her. Did she really hate him? What made him become this monster? It was time for the hardest question of all.

"Will you tell me how it happened?"

"No!" he almost growled. He unwittingly had felt himself soften at her tears; it unnerved him greatly to see someone who could be so strong and yet so vulnerable. He was not about to open himself up so. But also he knew, inside there was much shame.

She realized she wasn't going to get in so directly and decided to try another tactic. "I felt what he did to you, is that what you wanted? Did you want me to suffer?"

He knew how strong their bond was for him, but it was hard for him to gauge if she felt it as intensely as he did. "How was I to know how much you could feel? Maybe you should know what you've cost me! Maybe then you'd understand! Besides…I wasn't in a fit state to be putting up any mental barriers."

"What don't I understand?" she dared to ask.

She could feel his anger and defenses going up again. "Don't think you can trick me with your lies about being Grey. You just brought me here to try and seduce me to the light! I don't belong in the light, and that's what you don't understand!"

"Then help me to understand! That's all I want. You don't have to talk to me about the blood on your hands. I already know! I've felt the way Snoke has tortured you. I've felt your pain. I've felt your darkness and your anger. I feel everything…even the emptiness inside. Please…show me!" she said as she approached him, reaching one hand towards his scarred face.

He suddenly lashed out and grabbed her wrist as quickly as a viper and pulled her into him, his helmet dropping to the groud. He could feel a spike in her fear, but she refused to look away from his eyes. He could feel the defiance in her.

He grabbed her face with his other hand, which was more gentle, and looked down into her warm and frightened eyes. "You don't belong to the light either. You know you belong with me. We're both the same, I know you feel this. Don't be afraid, I feel it too," he said in a whisper as he leaned down and claimed her lips with his.

Her heart was thundering in her ears. She was frozen in shock, but this might be her only chance. She closed her eyes and relaxed into his kiss, allowing him to explore her mouth, his tongue gliding over hers with a soft caress, which then built into a hungry need. With her other free hand she touched his face and pulled him closer, and then she penetrated his mind.

Once she was in it was too late. She felt him try to put up barriers to resist her but she knew how to tear them all down. He could hear her whisper in his mind. "Show me. Please. Help me to understand." And finally he allowed the last of the walls to crumble and suddenly all his memories were bare before her.

She could see a very small boy with dark laughing eyes and black curly hair. No more than five years old. He was running and playing in a great hall with towering marble pillars. People dressed in fine regalia loitered about chatting amongst themselves, speaking about politics and ignoring the rambunctious child. He runs out onto a veranda. The sky is blue and there's a shining lake, but he has eyes only for his mother, the young Princess Leia is heatedly debating an issue of the senate with several other politicians when her young son runs to her, arms outstretched, a wilting flower in one hand. "Mother! Mother, look! I found this!"

She turns to her son with adoring eyes and excuses herself from the others as she kneels and takes the dying plant from her son. "It's beautiful. Where is Uncle Chewie?" she asks.

"I hid from him. He has to find me," he replied with a giggle.

"You mean you ran off again. Be a good boy and go wait with Uncle Chewie. I shouldn't be much longer."

"You always say that and it takes forever," he accuses.

"Please, Ben," she pleads gently trying to scoot him away. Then she goes back to her discussion with the other senators. He feels cold and rejected as she turns her back to him. Not for the first time, not for the last.

He wanders back out into the hall and is approached by a strange man, short, a very round nose and a receding hairline. His eyes are kind, but his smile is the smile of a predator. "Young Master Solo," he says as he kneels down to greet the boy. "I'm a friend of your mothers. We're on the same senate. Are you bored?"

The boy has conflicted feelings about this man. He thinks he's seen him before. So many boring people talk to his mother, but he convinces himself that he is not a stranger if he is friends with his mother and finally replies. "I want to go flying."

"Well that's no surprise. Did you know your grandfather was one of the greatest pilots who ever lived? He had quite a few adventures. Did your mother ever tell you?"

He shakes his head, no.

"Why don't you come with me? I have a friend I'd like you to meet. He can tell you all kinds of exciting things about what a great man your grandfather was. It will be more fun than being cooped up in this stuffy place," he said, offering the boy his hand.

"Okay," he reluctantly replies. Something feels off, but he lets the strange man lead him away.

They walk for what seems like forever. The man opens doors into a dark room and ushers Ben inside. There in the shadows sits a very tall and thin alien man. His eyes are dark and terrifying, his face scarred, but he speaks to the child with the serpents tongue. He tells the boy that he is glad to finally meet the grandson of the greatest warrior who ever lived. He lavishes the child with praise and attention and before he leaves, he places one long hand over the child's brow, and suddenly everything vanishes into darkness.

The boy is a little older now. He begs his father not to leave again. Whenever he leaves his mother cries. He always comes back, but he cannot bear to be parted from his father. He cannot bear to see his mother's sorrow. "Why must you go again? You promised to teach me how to barrel roll! You promised!"

Han wraps the child in a warm hug. He can smell the leather of his jacket, the familiar scent of his father. "Hey kid, don't be sad. Your old man will only be gone a week, and we'll practice those barrel rolls when I get back. I love you, Ben," he says patting his son on the shoulder. But he still leaves, and Ben is still alone. And then the voices start.

They don't love you. They leave you alone. They push you away. They only stay together because of you. They laugh at your pain. They hate you. They hate you because you're weak. You are weak. Pathetic child. Stupid boy. You make their lives hard. They'd be happier without you.

Over and over again, until every encounter, every memory of his parents growing up, is poisoned with these hateful whispers.

He begins to feel the force, but it comes from an angry place. He frightens his mother with his violent outbursts. She feels the darkness growing within him, but she doesn't understand why.

Suddenly Rey is standing in a room. The window is open and soft moonlight is pouring in. She hears heavy breathing and sobbing and walks around a bed to see a young Ben, maybe ten years old, crouching on the floor pressed up against the wall. He's visibly shaking; his eyes are filled with tears. She can hear into his mind; the whispers, the horrible awful whispers that won't stop. They're all mixed in with a terrible high pitched screeching sound that seems to grow louder and louder. She watches as bright red blood begins to drain out of his nose and down his face, spreading in a pool on the floor. "Ben!" she suddenly shouts, and crouches before him, desperate to shake him out of it. But she isn't really there, this is only his memory. He does not see or feel her, but she can feel his mind shattering.

And then, it stops. The whispers, the screeching, everything, and then she hears the sound of mechanical breathing. She watches as the traumatized boy looks up past her. He sees something, someone, and she looks behind her to see the towering form of Darth Vader standing in the moonlight. He holds out a gloved hand towards the boy. "Let me help you," he says through a mask. "Ben, I am your grandfather!"

Whenever the voices return, whenever he feels neglected, even if it's only in his mind, this image of Vader comes to him, and when he appears the horrible voices and screeching stop. The pain and confusion stops. Vader speaks to him of power, of strength. That Ben is strong with the force, and that the darkside is nothing to fear. That his parents are afraid because they don't understand the power of the darkside, but he, Vader, does. He offers to show the child the power of the darkside, he offers him control. He chases the maddening voices away. When Ben calls for him, he is there, and in time the boy is so enamored with this image of his grandfather he will do anything to please him, anything to gain his approval.

You are my true heir. You must continue what I started. You must fulfill my legacy! It is your destiny!

Han and Leia grow worried for their son. He has grown quiet, brooding, angry. He isn't the happy child that used to ride on Uncle Chewie's furry shoulders, or sit in the cockpit of the Falcon waiting anxiously for his father to continue with their next lesson. Their son was changing, and they knew that they were losing him.

She sees him shouting in anger. She sees his mother crying, while his father tries to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulder. Ben is eleven now, and they are sending him away. She feels his emotions and hears his thoughts. They don't want him anymore. They fear him. They fear his power. They don't love him. That's why they want him gone.

They send him to his uncle - Luke Skywalker. Vader tells him to use his anger to make him stronger, that he can use this Jedi training as an opportunity to become more powerful in the force, and that he can show him the true path to the darkside.

Everything continues to go wrong at the academy. The other padawans are afraid of him. They shun him, pulling away from the black cloud that he drags everywhere with him.

Luke tries to calm the storm within him, but Ben cannot be reached. Every time Luke tries to bring him one step closer to the light, the visions of Vader take him two steps further into darkness.

But the visions of Vader are getting fewer and further between. His visits began to be shorter.

Finally one day, in frustration, after Ben nearly kills a fellow padawan in sparring practice, Luke tells Ben; "I'm sorry, Ben, I don't think you can be a Jedi. There is too much anger in you, too much fear. I think you should go home."

She feels it as Ben's world crumbles around him. Something snaps. Becoming a Jedi and being strong in the force had become the only thing that meant anything to him at that time. It was all he had left, and Luke had shattered it all. Destroyed everything.

And then the vision of Vader came, but it was for the last time. He told the boy to seek out a great darkside user – Snoke, who could complete his training and help him fulfill his destiny. Instead of flying home to his parents, he went to Snoke. It was the same tall and terrifying form that he remembered from his childhood, but now he only showed himself in hologram.

Again he spoke to the boy, now fifteen and about to become a man, of the power of the darkside, of the greatness of his grandfather's legacy, so carelessly thrown aside by his mother. He spoke of the folly of all her work, of a grand and glorious new order, with power to finally end all the conflicts of the galaxy, through power and oppression. He beseeched Ben to help him achieve this dream, convincing him that it would have been what his grandfather wanted. That if he served him, he would be making his grandfather proud.

And so Ben fell to one knee, and swore a vow to serve Supreme Leader Snoke, to do anything, no matter what, for the greater good of the First Order and the galaxy, and when he rose he was no longer Ben Solo. He was Kylo Ren a Knight of Ren, a servant of the First Order, and padawan to their glorious leader. And his first task – to wipe out the Jedi academy of Luke Skywalker.

He returned to Luke's academy in a rain of blood. He and the other Knights of Ren cut down all the padawans even to the very youngest of younglings. But Luke Skywalker had not been there, he had been away scouting for new students, and when he returned he found only their bodies strewn around, and when he saw that the mask of his father had been stolen…he knew that it was Ben, and that he had fallen utterly into the darkside.

Suddenly she was standing in utter darkness, before her she could see the red glow that was Kylo Ren, seething with rage and pain. "Is this what you wanted? Does this please you?" he asks her.

She stands before him now, shining like a silver light. "I do understand now, perhaps more than you do. There's something you don't know."

"What? What more will you take from me?" he turns around and barks at her in anger.

"I was sent here to help you, Ben."

She watches as his face twists angrily at his birth name. "You. Cannot. Help. Me." He manages to force out past the trembling volcano of his rage.

"You're right, but he can," she says as suddenly she delves into his mind again, this time opening herself before him, forcing him to see within her, into her own memories. She shows him the true image of his grandfather, not as Darth Vader the Sith Lord, but as Anakin Skywalker, redeemed Jedi Knight.

No…that was not me. My grandson was deceived.

He hears the voice of Anakin Skywalker say within her memory.

Please. Save my grandson.

And suddenly he is violently knocked from the astral plane, and he finds himself once again standing with Rey in the open night air on Dantooin, holding her tightly in his arms, her warm hands gentle on his face.

She feels him tremble, struggling to digest all that he had just seen and felt and heard.

He was deceived. His whole life had been a deception. Everything he had ever known and felt had been manipulated, by the one person he trusted above all others – Snoke. He suddenly collapsed to his knees and buried his face in his hands. He was ruined. He was a ruined man. And just when he felt that he had nothing at all, she knelt down before him and pulled his hands from his face. He watched silently as she pulled his gloves from his large hands and gently laid her hands within his.

"I understand now. I understand what happened to you, and I'm glad I know the truth. Look at me," she demands, forcing him to look up from where her small hands rest within his. "There is no choice that you've ever made that was entirely your own. You've been controlled every step of your life. There is a place that exists between light and darkness, I see now that you belong there with me. We belong in the Grey together. I don't hate you anymore, Ben, and I don't want you to hate me either."

"Hate you?" he whispers. "I could no sooner hate the air I breathe. I need you," he says as he suddenly takes her in his arms. He seizes her mouth in another kiss, pulling her onto his lap. She gives a startled and muffled gasp, but she does not resist him. She feels him through the force now. The pain and emptiness they had both known all their lives, silenced at last in each other's arms. And suddenly nothing else mattered but this one moment. Together. Here. Feeling the beat of each other's hearts, two hearts; one synchronized rhythm.

He holds her body close to his with one arm and uses his other hand to press her face into his, his kiss growing hungrier with need. She wraps her arms around him and runs her fingers through his dark hair. She is straddling his lap and she feels him grow hard beneath her. She grinds against him and feels him growl with desire.

Before she knows it he is laying her down before the campfire, but he never takes his eyes off her. "I need you," he whispers as he begins trailing his lips along her jaw and down her throat. She can barely hear over the beat of her own heart. She feels his hands pull back her cloak and run over the sides of her body. There is nothing now. There is only him.

"Ben, be with me. I need you," she confesses as she feels his lips wandering down the front of her tunic and she runs her hands through his shiny black hair, pulling his lips to her breast. He rips open the fabric in a move that startles her slightly but when his wandering mouth finds her taught nipple she surrenders to him completely.

She reaches between them and begins unfastening her vest, desperate to have him touch more. He stops long enough to help her remove her tunic and vest and removes his own cloak and tunic. He can't help but stop and admire how beautiful she is in the firelight. He's never wanted anything more in his life. "You're so beautiful," he says gazing down at her, an embarrassed flush of red across his cheeks.

She pulls him down to her again and he surrenders completely. He pulls her legs up around him, desperate to feel every bit of her embrace. She can feel the swell in his trousers and she reaches down to stroke over it with her hand. When she touches him that way he almost comes undone and he can feel his head spin. She didn't even notice that he had already undone her belt, and with a quick yank he pulled down her leggings, boots and all, and kicked them out of the way.

Again he explored her with a hungry kiss, then gently he moved down her throat and over her collarbone. She felt a burning need as he tasted each of her nipples, slowly swirling his tongue over her flesh and moving lazily down her stomach. She felt the world and all the stars above her spinning as his exploring mouth glided over her hips, across the smooth skin of her inner thighs, and she cried out as he delved into the warm heat that lay between.

When she cried out it was almost too much for him. He wanted her to want him, wanted her to feel him in every way. He needed to possess her entirely. Slowly he worked his tongue up and down her fold, feeling her writhe beneath him, her taste the sweetest of ambrosia. When she felt his tongue move deep within her she couldn't help but buck her hips and dig into his scalp with her fingers. He pulled her thighs up and spread her open further for him. She cried out again as she felt the delicious heat building within her core.

Suddenly she cried out his name in ecstasy, her body shaking uncontrollably as she felt her powerful release. She was barely recovering from the intensity of her climax, when he had removed his belt and pants and he was opening her legs again so that he could kneel between. He was beautiful there, kneeling before her, his stomach and chest toned and strong. His arms, long, but powerful, his manhood eager and intimidating.

He leaned down and drowned her in another long passionate kiss, finally pulling back just enough so that he could look in her eyes. "Rey, you're mine," he whispers against her lips as she felt him gently begin to push inside of her. She felt a minor discomfort at first, as her body struggled to adjust to the size of him. He stilled when he felt her whimper. Barely moving, but both panting as if they were dying for lack of air, he began tasting the skin of her throat. With one more gentle push they were one.

He could feel her trembling in his arms, and he knew he had to move slowly. She reached for him through the force then, wanting to feel him, not just inside her body, but inside of her soul. Wanting him to complete her, to fill the unspoken need that had always been there. When he felt her touch through the bond, it was overwhelming. A lifetime of aching loneliness, of being hated, of being feared, but not here, not in her arms. Here he was whole. With her he felt the missing piece of his soul.

He was moving faster now, her body tight but wet. He could feel her need through their bond; feel her fingernails tearing down his back. "Oh, Ben, yes," she cried out as he pounded into her. He was so close, but he needed more, he needed her, he could feel her through the bond she was almost his entirely, so close. Finally she gasped, and felt as though a sun had burst within her. She pulled him tightly too her as her entire body trembled.

He shouted her name to the heavens as he followed close with his own release. She could feel his heat spilling inside of her.

Finally he collapsed on top of her, trying not to crush her with his own weight.

"Rey," he breathed, as he held her in his arms.

"You belong to me now, I won't let you go," she replied.

A note from your humble author: Giggidy!