Chapter 8

Rey awoke in the darkened room, slowly coming off the adrenaline of a dream now forgotten. With her eyes still closed, she could piece together aspects of the dream: being chased, her limbs not quite moving as they should, running but getting nowhere. Her heart still beat as if she was there. Yet there was a sudden realization of her safety. The mattress was soft, the blankets around her kept out the cold, a heavy presence to her right assured her she was not alone. She turned to look at him, knowing she could not see him—knowing he could not see her. Slow, deep breaths came from him; he was still in another world. Rey felt conflicted. A sting of panic told her to run, but her body's comfort said to stay.

Afraid, she thought, what are you afraid of?

She wanted to touch him. She wished she could cross that line, and that perhaps their bond meant she could bypass all the prelude. Her body begged for contact despite the fear. The fear that this was real. The fear that he might mean more to her than she ever wanted to imagine.

Do you have commitment issues or something? Because I don't mess with girls that have that kind of baggage.

His sarcastic tone mocked her troubled psyche. She exhaled. Slowly, deliberately, she peeled away the blankets and sat up. The room seemed colder than when she went to bed, adding another reason to stay tucked beneath the covers, blissfully unaware of any moral dilemmas. She looked at Ben to make sure her movements had not stirred him. His energy was the same: smooth, rhythmic, dilatory. Rey stood up and carefully climbed from the nest, stepping out onto the cold metal. A chilling spike ran up her body. She wrapped her arms around herself. The door to the quarters opened quietly enough, and Rey made her way back to her room. She changed from her measly undergarments and wrapped herself in a thick, ivory cloak. It weighed her down like a bag of sand, yet it was the closest thing to a hug she could ask for right now. In the corner of the room, an inconspicuous sack lay propped against the wall. She eyed it as if a realization came to her. From it, she grabbed her lightsaber.

In the main hold, the atmospheric lights flickered. The air was still, as the winds had died down from days prior. A dry silence permeated the ship and Rey suddenly felt uneasy. She wondered if she should just wait for Ben to wake up; the thought came and went. As she scarfed down a hunk of bread, she inspected her arm. A thick scar had begun to form where the electrical panel had hit her during the crash. Under her touch, the skin was still tender. She frowned and a thought came to her. She placed her hand over the scar and concentrated. Seconds passed, but there was no energy being transferred. There was no passion, in fact, her emotions had felt rather dampened. She looked at the mark again and was disappointed to see no change.

I must be tired, she thought, I'll try again later.

Walking to the cockpit, Rey stopped short. Something had covered the room in a puffy, white blanket. She had seen it once before on Starkiller base yet had no word for it. She reached down and grabbed a handful of the fluffy precipitation. On the ground it reminded her of sand, but in her hands, she was surprised at how quickly it turned to water. She stepped into the center of the cabin, beneath the broken canopy. From the darkened clouds above, flakes of white fell in supreme silence.

She thought back to Ilum, to the fight she and Ben hashed out in the forest. At the time, she was terrified, but now she almost wished she could go back to that time; things were simpler then. She never noticed how cold this substance was on Ilum, perhaps the heat of battle had blinded her senses. Ever since then, she had often wondered how things would have changed had she slayed Ben then and there. Now the thought was sickening, and she hated herself for even considering it. It was not like her, and certainly not like the way of the Jedi. The memory made her feel ashamed, and she could only be thankful that Ben no longer had the scars to remind her of her misdeeds.

Rey climbed from the ship and landed in the freshly fallen snow. She listened. The world was serenely quiet, so much so that even her breathing felt like an intrusion on the silent symphony. The trees, which always seemed to sway in a daily dance, were utterly still. Layers of heavy snow weighed on their branches, creating rows of white peaks as far as the eye could see.

She entered the forest with not so much as a look back. The world seemed to disappear into the black, as the intense silence of the trees created the atmosphere of a vacuum. Rey found a small boulder protruding from the snow and decided this spot would do quite well. She set her lightsaber on top of the rock, then dug beneath the snow, pulling up a few small stones from the dirt. She inspected them, captivated by their teal hue. She breathed and willed the stones to circle her in a lazy orbit. They did so with little resistance.

Unlike the other day, her fear had little influence. Something about the peacefulness of the snow, and the way the cold seeped into her bones had repressed her fears of wild beasts and endless nights. She concentrated, pulling her teachings from Luke to memory. She felt the planet all the way to its core. She felt the dormant energy of the soil and the microscopic life feeding off the dead vegetation. She sensed the water moving through the trees and the way they communicated with one another. She clung to the distant heat of the sun and the way it fed the barren planet.

The stones had sped up in their orbit and oscillated to and from her. She visualized her peacefulness in front of her. She visualized it enveloping her, then the forest, then the valley. She opened her eyes.

Confusion washed over her. The stones had not flown away from her like she had intended, but instead sat in a precarious pile, stacked one on top of the other, next to her lightsaber. She sighed, her shoulders dropped, and so did the stones. They fell beneath the snow, leaving mere imprints in the white blanket. Rey looked around, though nothing had changed. No one to tell her she was doing it wrong. No sarcastic comments. Just silence. A sinking feeling took hold of her stomach, one she had not often felt. One that validated her doubts. One of the few things she feared about herself: that she had no idea what she was doing.

A rhythm. A few steps—delicate, like a dancer. Something new entered her field of telepathic vision. It was a heavy energy, yet oddly innocent. It begged her to find it. She looked deep into the trees. A pair of golden eyes peered from the void. They approached, stopping every few steps. Rey's breath hitched. The figure, no larger than a dog, became visible. Its silky coat, white as a ghost, glimmered under the twilight sky. Rey was captivated by its tall, pointed ears and stumpy black tail. Its head was distinctly feline. The creature stopped, its nose twitching. Rey regarded it with curiosity and affection. It reminded her of a Vulptex. And yet, there was something else, something Rey could not discern about this creature. There were no words, but it seemed to be whispering to her. A soulless conversation, something she would have heard on the waves of a forgettable dream. The longer she looked into its eyes, the deeper it seeded into her mind. They seemed to stare at each other for a small eternity, neither willing to make a move. Just as she considered reaching out, the creature turned on a heel and bounded through the trees. A primal impulse kicked in, one that had kept her alive for years. One Rey was keen to satisfy. She grabbed her lightsaber and embraced the hunt.

Deeper and deeper into the forest they went. In the darkness and amongst the maze of trees, Rey had no chance of keeping up with the elusive beast, but it did not break her determination. She trailed the small footprints as they made sharp turns through the trees. Some force compelled her to keep going, despite the disorientating twists and turns. In the back of her mind, she knew she had strayed too far, but it did not matter. All that mattered was the chase.

Before Rey could admit to herself that she needed to turn back, she was standing before a cave. The paw prints disappeared at the mouth of the cave, where the snow ended, and the ground became a familiar dark dirt. A warm, moist air fumed from the grotto, so much so that Rey could see thin plumes of steam rising into the sky. By looks alone, the cave must have led underground. The little light she had was consumed as she stared into the cavernous pit. Black tendrils seemed to squirm from the void, wrapping around her body and mind. They promised her something—a secret—something that could only be felt, never explained. Rey looked over her shoulder, then back at the cave. There was her and there was silence. She took one step into the cave, then a few more.

Ben blinked a few times and rolled onto his back. His body resisted the call to wakefulness. He yawned, then reached out to confirm the presence of his new sleeping companion. Gone. He sat up and inspected the disheveled blankets. He furrowed his brow, and a sudden rush of thoughts sobered his mind. There was concern, but for what, he was not yet sure. There was disappointment, for which he did not want to admit. He felt where she had slept and noticed the area was cold. She had been gone for a while. He closed his eyes and reached out, perplexed to find her presence was nowhere to be found aboard the ship. He frowned and reached out further. A faint signature to the southeast, much too far for comfort. He got out of the bed and quickly began putting himself together.

His steps slowed as he neared the cockpit. The console, the chairs, everything was covered in snow. His mind immediately went to the computer system; he could only hope the moisture had not seeped into the wiring. He walked to the center of the room and looked down to see prints leading to the open edge of the hull. He looked out on the snow-covered forest, his eyes searching. He grabbed the edge of the hull, ready to jump out, but his momentum came to an abrupt halt. He thought for a moment. He thought about what he said last night.

Is it really your business? He asked himself. What if she wants to be alone?

His shoulders dropped. He sunk into the spot where he stood. The thought stumped him. If it were true and he went out to find her, she would claim he was being overly solicitous. Sure, he knew she could take care of herself, and yet, in Ben's eyes, she had shown herself to be too childlike in her fascination with new environments. It was enough to make him uneasy, as he recalled many times a fresh trooper was a little too naïve, or a little too mindless. Running off into the dark unknown was beyond naïve or mindless. He had seen men killed for lesser errors. The thought made his mind race. An emotion swam over him, creeping up from the bowels of his paranoid psyche. It was black as night and he knew all too well from where it came. He grabbed his head as he fought for control. The darkness pulled at his bones and tore across his skin. He felt it swimming through his blood. He balled his fist and slammed it into the frozen metal. Luke's echoed words broke through the noise.

Possessiveness is the quickest path to the dark side, Ben. It will take hold of you and hold you tighter than any worldly pleasure. It is one of the few emotions a Jedi cannot control, and it is why you must avoid attachment in all aspects of your life. Possession breeds fear—the fear of loss.

He breathed and meditated on the words. He could not help but to argue, as he and Luke so often did in his youth. Concern was not possessiveness, right? Any attachment he had to Rey was not of his choosing. How could he live with himself if something happened to her out there, when he could have prevented it? He fought the dark as its fingers slipped from his soul. He remembered the carcass they had seen the other day, and how large the animal must have been—how strong its butchers must have been. He gritted his teeth as the corruption rushed from his veins and into the floor. He saw her bright smile, her twinkling eyes, her confident poise. Her image focused him. He looked out into the forest again, recognizing the same malevolence in its snowy seduction that he had felt moments ago. The same malevolence he felt on Exegol. A realization came to him, one of this planet's true nature.

Then a whisper, his own.

"Protecting is not possessing."

Carefully, Rey climbed deeper into the cavern. Stalagmites and stalactites threatened to pierce her skin, but she navigated the sharp rocks with caution. No longer was she chasing the mysterious creature, no longer was she in a hurry. Something greater pulled her through the tunnel. At times, she swore she saw glimpses of light, but she could not be sure if they were mere illusions. Rounding a large rock formation, she leaned against the wall of the cave. Beads of condensation soaked into her clothes and dotted her skin. She felt the wall with both hands, surprised to feel such warmth. Breathing became laborious as the saturated air filled her lungs like that of a sauna. Within minutes, a rich blue light became apparent, crawling along the moist walls in every direction. Nearing the end of the cave, Rey was pushed to remove her cloak as the heat became intolerable.

She found herself in a wide cavern, in which she could stand tall. It was no larger than the main hold of the ship, and small, natural vents led to the outside. Rey wondered if the creature had escaped through one of the vents, as it was nowhere to be seen in the cave. Multiple circular pools dotted the floor of the cave, filled to the brim with milky, steaming water. Some were bubbling, some moved in lazy ripples, being fed from neighboring pools. When Rey looked up, the source of the blue lighting became clear. A thick stratum of lichen coated the ceiling. Never had she seen bioluminescent plants, thinking it was nothing less than magic. Small glowing insects floated around the cave, aimless, their light much like that of the vegetation.

A distinct calm filled the cave, letting Rey lower her guard. Maybe it was the familiarity of a small, dark space. Maybe it was the planet giving her a break from the stresses of the past few weeks. She stared into the pools of water, as their gentle gurgling drowned out any doubts. An idea came to her of a nature she rarely acknowledged. She set her cloak on a flat rock formation, then began peeling the rest of her clothes off. The desire for a hot bath was strong enough to pry away her prudishness. She released her hair from its ties and raked her fingers along her scalp, which had just begun to accumulate a greasy sheen. Her skin felt tight, especially her various scars, which itched in the dry air. But not here. Here the moisture seeped into her skin, opening her pores, and replenishing its color and firmness.

She dipped one foot into the largest pool, immediately relaxing at the caress of hot water. She crawled into the pool which overflowed in her presence. The water stirred, bringing a mixture of silt and minerals to the surface, circulated by the underwater venting. It turned the water an opaque lavender hue, like that of fresh bantha milk. With a breath, Rey dipped below the surface. The searing water flowed through her hair as she scrubbed her scalp with her fingernails. Surfacing, the moist air stuck to her face and caused her to huff. Utterly content, she scrubbed the rest of her body, soaking in this little basin of paradise.

Ben's boots hit the ground with a heavy crunch, sinking into the thick snow. As he breathed, puffs of steam dissipated into the frigid air. Rey's smaller footsteps became apparent, even as a layer of fresh snow began to cover them. Ben looked to the sky as the flakes seemed to fall with greater intensity each passing second. He followed the trail as it led to where she had been practicing. Perplexed, he could not understand why she had stopped there. He then noticed the tracks seemed to become longer in stride and less neat. The small prints of an animal began to run beside them. The picture became clear as he realized she was chasing something; he was relieved to know it was not the reverse. He stopped as a thundering roar approached from behind, rolling into the valley from the mountains above. He turned and saw the field of treetops bending at the invisible forces of the atmosphere. He shielded his face behind his cloak as a stiff wind tore past him, whipping his hair in all directions, threatening to stagger him. He walked on as the planet seemed to push him deeper into the forest.

In such foul weather, Ben wondered what compelled Rey to do something so reckless. Her penchant for adventure without reason, while endearing, was beginning to agitate him. Even at her age, he thought, he was not so irresponsible. Perhaps he had seen too much, or perhaps she had known too little. He had no desire to stop her heart from following the unbeaten path, but a compromise would have to be reached. Communication needed to take place—his anxiety would not settle for anything less if this was to work.

This, he thought.

He was still trying to figure out what this was.

After a maze of twists and turns, in which he was not sure if the trail would ever end, he was met with the same grotto that had enticed Rey hours earlier. He took in the hot air that poured out from the gaping maw, and immediately understood why Rey would have come here. He quickly surveyed the ground to see if she had left at some point but could not discern any footprints that appeared to leave the cave. Too tall, he ducked below the roof of the cavern and began his descent.

Rey had been dozing off as her body stewed in the hot spring. Her hair had begun to dry in frizzy waves. She opened her eyes, lidded and lazy, until a pang of adrenaline hit her, in which her eyes grew wide. A familiar energy had broken her from her respite, with only seconds notice before her eyes met Ben's. Rey sunk into the water with haste, lunging to the front edge of the pool where her body would not be exposed. Ben quickly averted his eyes, but not before a brief image of her bare breasts was burned into his mind.

"Sorry, sorry!" He said, pressing his eyes shut.

"What are you doing here?" Rey asked with ire.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" Ben replied, matching her intensity.

Flustered and blushing, Rey looked away. She huffed as it felt like all the heat in the world had settled around her body. After a long moment she spoke.

"I got…sidetracked," she muttered.

"I can see that. What were you thinking? Running off into the woods," he replied.

He took a small glimpse to confirm she was no longer exposed, before allowing himself to look around. Still, he could not bring himself to look directly at her, recognizing how vulnerable she was. Rey would not meet his eyes either, instead staring at the glittering wall. She hesitated.

"I...was training, and then I saw the strangest creature, so I followed it and it led me here," she said.

Ben sighed.

"That's absurd, Rey, you shouldn't leave the ship like that, not without—"

"Without what? Telling you?" Rey asked, finally meeting his eyes.

Her shame seemed to fizzle away.

"Yes, without telling me," Ben replied, staring her down.

"So, what? I'm supposed to answer to you now?"

Ben rolled his eyes, his shoulders dropping.

"No, it's not like that at all. It's just a matter of safety, Rey. I would expect you to ask the same of me," he said, regaining a coolness to his tone.

Rey looked down, her jaw clenched.

"Look, I've been exploring the wilderness—on my own—for my whole life. I can handle myself. I don't need you to look out for my safety," she said, her voice low and defensive.

"So, I should just let you go gallivanting around a strange planet, where we know dangerous animals exist? Not to mention the presence of the First Order."

"You don't have to let me do anything, I can go wherever I want, regardless of what's out there. You're not my father, you're not even my boyfriend. Stop acting like you need to watch my every move," she said.

Ben was quiet, if not taken back by her words. He ran his hand through his hair—these mixed signals were stacking up higher than he could count. He exhaled, suddenly aware of how hot he felt. He removed his cloak and threw it next to Rey's scattered clothes. He looked around, taking in the cave's confined space. His eyes stopped at the lichen above, glowing with such intensity as it absorbed the moist, rising air.

"How did you even find this place?" He asked, his tone less intense as he tried to steer the conversation in a less hostile direction.

Without looking at him, Rey spoke, her voice still full of displeasure.

"I told you, I followed a creature," she said.

Ben furrowed his brow. His breaths were labored as the heat continued to plague him, even having removed the heavy cloak.

"What kind of creature?"

Rey shrugged beneath the water.

"I don't know. It was white, it had tall ears, and long legs. I've never seen anything like it."

"It wasn't a rabbit?"

"I don't know what that is."

Ben sighed.

"Like a womp rat," he said.

Rey shook her head.

"Ew, no, nothing like that. This thing was so beautiful. It had huge almond eyes that glowed in the dark and its coat was like silk," she said.

Her eyes lit up and her tone had changed to that of wonder. Ben thought for a moment.

"A felid, perhaps. Where did it go?" He asked.

"I thought it ran into the cave, which is why I came down here, but I think it escaped through the walls," Rey said, pointing to the crevices venting out steam.

Ben nodded. They were silent for a moment, the bubbling of the water filling the room. Rey continued to rest her chin in her arms, perched on the edge of the pool. Behind her, she idly kicked her feet in the water. After a moment of consideration, Ben approached the edge of the pool. He lowered to the ground, sitting with one arm propped behind him. Rey straightened herself, surprised at his closeness.

"It's hot as hell in here; I can see why you'd start taking clothes off," he said.

"Yeah…," Rey said, unable to hide her flushed face.

Ben looked at her, his expression communicating a thoughtful seriousness. He stared into her eyes, searching for some deeper understanding. Rey swallowed, feeling quite vulnerable under his intense gaze. Before she could break contact, Ben spoke.

"Rey," he paused, collecting his thoughts, "I'm not trying to stop you from doing what you want, but I need you to understand this place is not your friend. We don't know anything about this planet, we don't know what's out here, we don't know what's waiting for us. We can't let our guards down for trivial quests. We need to stick together because all we have out here is each other."

Rey was quiet, not meeting his eyes, but receptive to his message. Deep down, she agreed.

"I know you've been alone for a long time—I have too. I'm sure you're resourceful and you probably can take care of yourself out here, but you need to let go of that mindset. You said you didn't want to be alone anymore, right? We're in this together, so let me care about you," Ben said, his voice low and unexpectedly soft.

Rey could not bring herself to look at him, as she felt quite meek. He was right and she hated it. His words squirmed through the cracks of her hardened exterior, one she had fortified throughout the years. Once again, she felt a profound guilt for being so defensive. She recognized that perhaps her physical vulnerability had triggered her need to protect herself; it was only natural. But he was not an enemy—not anymore. With a heavy sigh, Rey reached out her hand, her gaze averted. Ben regarded her gesture, then placed his hand in hers. It was a simple message but he understood. It was better than nothing.

After a tense moment, Ben began to draw away, but Rey held his hand back, digging her nails into his skin. Forcefully, she pulled him forward. With his other hand, Ben barely caught himself from falling into the pool. Instead, they fell into each other's eyes, their hearts quickening. They were so close, they breathed each other's air. Neither could speak, but something was communicated. Something new—it lasted less than a second. Something both felt, but neither could explain. An energy, a tension, a yearning. Rey eyed his lips.

A need.

Just as quick as she had grabbed his hand, Rey let go, retracting back into the steaming water. She quickly submerged herself below the murky waves.

Afraid, her subconscious shamed.

Ben huffed, frustrated with this ongoing game, his patience reaching its categorical limit. He stood up and stretched as Rey's head resurfaced. He noted the way the water droplets ran down her face and how her hair traced the top of her chest. He stared at her ruby lips and the way she pouted. She glanced his way, catching him staring. He quickly looked away, running a hand through his hair. He cleared his throat.

"Well, I'm going to go back and, uh, get to work on the ship. I think we're close to having the heat back. It's too bad though—you won't have a reason to sleep next to me anymore," he said.

Rey smirked, and gestured with one hand.

"Hold on, let's not jump to conclusions. For your sake, maybe, I can find room in my heart to keep our little arrangement," she said.

Ben smiled and grabbed his cloak. A devilish grin crawled across his face as a thought came to him, begging to be chastised. He gestured to the water and gave a pronounced shrug with as much charm as his genes could muster.

"I mean, if you need more convincing, I can get in there with you," he said.

At that, Rey ran her hand across the top of the water, splashing him across the chest. Ben laughed, quite pleased with himself. They caught each other's eye, staring for just a second too long. Rey broke the contact, with a provocative smile on her lips and a sultry look in her eyes. She seemed to consider his offer. For the briefest moment, Ben thought repairing the ship would have to wait. Rey looked at him, then at the tunnel leading out. She gave the slightest gesture.

"Go on, trouble. Get out of here."

Ben looked away and bit his lip, unable to hide a smile. He had to admit, at this game, she had him beat. With a small nod, he turned and entered the rocky corridor. Under the heat and pressure, he thought he was going to lose it. And yet, he felt invigorated, exhilarated, primal even. As he exited the mouth of the cave, he stood tall, his shoulders squared. A flame as old as life itself had been ignited within him; even the cold shower of snow and ice could not extinguish it. He ran his tongue across his teeth and shook his head, his composure lost to the wind. With proud strides, he started back the way he came.