A/N: Finished this chapter much earlier than expected! I hope you all enjoy this little surprise, and please remember to leave a review if you enjoyed it!:)

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Rey opened her eyes with a weary sigh and stared up at the wooden canopy above her much too large and elegant bed. White transparent drapes fell all around her, pale and almost glowing in the moonlight, and she was buried beneath many heavy blankets. The pillows and the mattress were too soft for her liking, and she felt as if she were always sinking lower and lower into them. Eventually, she thought, they might swallow her whole.

She had been tossing and turning for hours, but sleep continued to elude her. Nights had passed in this way ever since she had first come to Naboo, nearly two weeks prior to their infiltration of the Adamus mining facility. She, Poe, Finn, Rose, and countless other members of the Rebellion had made the journey here in order to attend the funeral of their fearless leader, their tenacious general, and their always hopeful princess.

Leia was here. The heart of the Resistance was here.

And that was what had compelled them to stay. The queen had welcomed them with open arms, telling them of Leia's heroic exploits some thirty years ago when she and several others had taken action to defend Naboo and its people from the Empire. Because of her, the planet was rapidly recovering from the extensive damage inflicted by Imperial, climate-altering satellites. And because of her, its people had been liberated, never again falling under the rule of tyrants.

The Emperor's betrayal had brought great shame upon the Naboo, and the queen was determined to atone for his crimes, just as her predecessors had strived to do. So now, as the First Order sought to conquer, she and her loyal subjects would rise to challenge it. All they had required was the right push. The right cause. The belief that they could achieve victory.

Luke's sacrifice had reignited that spark of hope, and he had once again become the legend that the galaxy needed. The boy that had blown up the Death Star—that had defeated the Emperor—was now the man who had single-handedly faced down the First Order, who had given the Resistance the chance to live and to fight another day.

Rey smiled for a moment, then sat up. Parting the white curtains on the left side of the bed, she swung her legs over, and her bare feet made contact with a lush rug. She wiggled her toes, delighting in the way its velvety material caressed her skin. But when her gaze found the pile of old books stacked on the desk near the window, her smile faded.

No matter how hard she tried, she could not read them. The text was too archaic and unrelated to any language she recognized. No one else could interpret it either, and so she had been left in an endless cycle of struggle and frustration.

With an exhausted sigh, Rey leaned forward and buried her face in her hands, her dark hair falling long and loose over her shoulders and fingers. She was the last of the Jedi, the last of an ancient order that she knew very little of. Her time with Luke had been short, and he had been unwilling to teach her much of what she wished to know. How was she supposed to carry on the tradition? How was she ever going to convince anyone else to?

Why would anyone want to listen to her?

Hot tears welled behind her tightly closed lids, a lump burning in her throat. She heard an echoing voice, speaking words that cut her to the bone. Brusque and offhand. Cold and detached.

"You have no place in this story. You come from nothing. You're nothing."

She choked back a sob, the tears spilling down her cheeks. He was right, and that was the worst part. She was no one. She was from nowhere. Her parents had thrown her away like garbage.

But she had learned something on this journey, an invaluable lesson that she would carry with her for the rest of her life. Her past did not define her. The future held infinite possibilities, and she could become whoever she wanted to be. The choice was hers alone. And she had chosen to be a part of something greater than herself. She had chosen to save what she loved.

And that made her someone. Someone who could make a difference. Someone who could restore what was lost.

"But not to me," Rey whispered, finishing the words Ben Solo had spoken to her just before he had asked her to join him, to rule with him.

He had wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and it had torn her apart to refuse him. But he had left her no choice. She had seen it—that gleam in his eye. The lust for power. The lack of compassion for those she was desperate to save.

In that moment, he had not been the man who told her that she was not alone, who had held her hand, who had saved her from Snoke. No—he had been the monster. The hunter. He had allowed the dark side to rule his heart.

But Rey refused to give up on him. She had glimpsed the light inside his soul, had seen it in his eyes when he reached for her—the hope. The Force was not finished with Ben Solo, and neither was she.

If only she could reach him somehow. If only…

"Rey?"

Her heart stopped. All thoughts ceased. Her head jerked upright, and her breath caught inside her chest.

There he was, standing directly across from her. Silhouetted against silver window panes. This had not happened since…since…

"Are you doing this?" he asked quietly, hesitantly, as if he feared the answer.

"I-I don't know," she stammered, still struggling regain her composure.

Of course she had not summoned him here by her own power. It was always the Force that had facilitated their uniquely intimate encounters. But such a thing had not occurred since the Battle of Crait. Since she had closed herself off from him.

Rey doubted that she could control and manipulate their bond so easily, but perhaps the Force had heeded her request for a time. Was it possible that it could have sensed her desire for space—for time—and had granted her wish?

Ben appeared to be at a loss for words as well. His hands clenched and unclenched. His lips contracted and then parted. But his eyes never left her.

Slowly, she stood and took a step toward him, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin. "Well? Did you get what you wanted?"

"Something like that," he answered, but there was no glee in his voice.

"Did you kill him?" she pressed.

"No."

Rey exhaled slowly, finding some small comfort in that. He had not lost himself to violence and bloodlust after all. Apparently, he could not even bring himself to strike down his greatest rival.

Ben glanced down for a moment, then met her eyes again. "So…you made it off Adamus."

"No thanks to you," she responded shortly.

"Really?" He quirked an eyebrow. "As I recall—"

"I would have made it off the station just fine without you. In fact, if you hadn't been there, more of those people would still be alive, and they would be free."

"I was not the only target," he said, swiftly correcting her. "Hux wanted to destroy both me and you with a single stroke. With the Rebellion gone and me eliminated, there would be no one left standing in his path to galactic domination. He's a madman, and he will stop at nothing until every knee bows to him."

"How is he any different from you?" she questioned, dismissively shrugging off his speech.

Ben visibly flinched, and Rey knew that she had struck a nerve.

"I don't want people to suffer," he insisted fervently.

"Then why are they enslaved?" she demanded. "Why are they starving? Why do they labor until they drop dead? Why are their resources stolen and used to feed your war machine?"

"Everything can't be undone with a snap of my fingers."

"Why hasn't any of it?" Her chest was heaving, her hands balled into fists. Fury was steadily building inside her.

He swallowed hard, and she thought she saw his eyes glisten. "I'm trying."

His answer took her aback, and Rey stared at him in stunned silence. It was not the first time that this had happened. But before she could summon an answer, he began to fade away. No! she thought, taking another step toward him.

But he was already gone.