Chapter 4
After she disappeared, I couldn't rest. We had discussed too much for my mind to go over. First, she did not hate me, which was a step in the right direction for my plan. It felt so odd to have someone say such words to me-no one had spoken so kindly to me since I had murdered my father, and it had been years before that since. Although I had treated Rey with so much cruelty today, she still could find it in herself to not hate me. That made me feel something akin to guilt over how I treated her-after all, she had only used that detestable name, but it wasn't like she hadn't used it before. I just could not handle her calling me that when she was my prisoner, and she was showing off the fact that even though she was technically an amateur, she could heal me. I remembered her calling me by that name as she pushed her sabre towards me to fight off Snoke's guards, right after I had murdered him. If I was being honest with myself, which I usually tried not to be, I missed that interaction. We had, for a brief moment, placed so much trust in each other, it felt like I wasn't totally alone. But then she left, and I had been too cowardly to do anything about it, except stay put.
Second, I had had the somewhat planet-shattering realization that I couldn't hurt her, nor could she hurt me. At least intentionally. That realization was so incredibly dangerous, I wanted to deny that it had even occurred. It was too late, though-once I felt that snap of the Force, as if aligning us better, there was no turning away from it. Even reflecting now I noticed how so many of our interactions had been driven by this soon-to-be-revealed force between us. Again, seeing Snoke torture her and watching as she battled his guards had made my stomach turn, and although I had been battling my own, all I really wanted to ensure was that she would end up safe. After that, although we still fought, I began to believe now that it was just a means of self-preservation. For both of us. After all, we had never had such discussions until tonight.
Third, I had no idea what I was going to do about Emperor Palpatine. For a while, now, I had been carefully considering his execution. After all, he was posing too many threats to my ability to rule independently-and I was sick of being other powerful beings' pet. Now, with Rey's confession and my world turned upside down, I was at a loss. He would sense our bond growing stronger, and would probably be able to tell it was influencing me in ways neither of us wanted to admit. Although I could live with it, he would not tolerate such weakness. I'd be wasted immediately, but not before seeing him possess Rey and steal away all of her light.
I shook my head at the thought, trying to dislodge it. If there was one thing that tonight's discussion meant, it was that I had to keep Rey alive and safe. I was pretty sure ritualistic possession would fall under the "unsafe" category. It was like some greater power had made my mind up for me: I had to assassinate Palpatine. More dire was that I needed to have the element of surprise, which would be difficult considering he could be in my head any time, even now...
I also needed to keep it a secret from Rey until necessary. Her mind was not as secure as mine could be, and I was not going to risk her being prey to Palpatine's intrusion of the mind, therefore ruining my plan and hurting my soul-hell, if I still had one left-more deeply than anything else he could inflict on me.
She would have to know eventually, though, because if I was going to somehow manage to do this, I would need her help. This was a mission worthy of the dyad, and it would not work with only half of the party's participation. If I started training with her in the ways of shielding herself, maybe that would give both of us time to prepare. And it would help her place more trust in me, which at the moment seemed to be waning-although she didn't hate me, and couldn't hurt me, that certainly didn't mean she liked me or anything.
That was another issue in and of itself. How did Rey truly feel about me? She didn't have to like me, I supposed, but it would be incredible to know if she felt for me how I did for her. But hell, I wasn't even sure what I felt for her. My feelings had been shut off or stifled for years now, any emotion past hatred or fear or anger was like unexplored land. I knew I couldn't stand to see her hurt, that I wanted her safe, but wasn't that just human decency? What would someone like me even begin to know about that?
Gods, everything was suddenly so much more complicated. On a more meta-plane, though, it felt like some things in the Force had been set right. Like this realization of ours's was key to some greater accomplishment. My finality on murdering Palpatine felt like it had indeed been orchestrated by the Force itself. Maybe Rey was influencing me? Was my mind weak enough for that? Considering everything I was feeling tonight, maybe it was. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, briefly meditating on the matter. I could feel the flex of her heart below me, rhythmic and honest-no, she was not deceiving me. That did not mean I was falling prey to her witchcraft any less, though.
And fourth...what was she going to do after we executed Palpatine? Would she finally see me as a worthy companion, and agree to join me in ruling the First Order? Or was that just wishful thinking? She was so full of light, and goodness, that I struggled to imagine her willingly accepting the Dark Side as a major force in her life. If I wanted her safe, though, wasn't it best if she was always near, for me to protect? Or would familiarity with me just breed contempt? I mean, she was well aware of my past crimes, could she get over those to see I was becoming a worthy Supreme Leader? Or what if the Dark Side began to rule me too completely, and I hurt her without meaning to. And even if she did agree, who was I to steal away this creature of light and hide her away in this dark underworld?
It was all too much. So many thoughts, all complete with their own counterarguments, I had so many things to focus on and sort out. Yet all I could keep thinking about was how she had managed to make me do something I haven't done in years: smile.
Okay, yes, I had said I hated him. That was just spoken in a moment of rage at how ghastly he could be. Unfortunately, during our conversation last night, I had just let the words spill out and gave him all the gooey details about how I couldn't handle his pain or misfortune. No matter if he was a wannabe Sith, war criminal.
Truthfully, I did not hate him. Not even close-I wasn't sure what I felt, but it wasn't hate. It wasn't like, either, though. Some strange in-between, like I could acknowledge and blame him for his transgressions, but I still couldn't find it in myself to imagine living without him in the galaxy. He was an essential part of my existence. I had been trying to deny it, but last night it became painfully clear.
Seriously, what the hell was happening?
Okay, I told myself. We can think about our feelings later-right now, we need to focus on a game plan. Now that I was admitting I didn't hate him, maybe my original plan of luring him to my side could work. Or maybe my new plan could actually work, if I could get Ben involved.
Or maybe I was being idealistic and these plans would just back fire, he would see my plans as acts of betrayal on behalf of the dyad, and it would just push us further from each other. My prison sentence here would probably get much worse, too. Nothing good ever came easy, right?
I also would have to keep guarding these plans from him in my mind, which was starting to take up much more of my energy than I had expected, making me seem physically weak in combat. I hated giving him that satisfaction of thinking he could best me.
I was sitting in the desk chair when a droid came to gather my breakfast tray, my knees brought up to my chest. I barely looked away from the spot on the wall in front of me I had been staring at all morning, only to mumble a quick 'thank you', but I quickly noticed Ben, standing just out of the droid's way, as if he had just been about to enter the room. We made brief eye contact before the door shut with a whoosh.
He looked...nervous? It was definitely some emotion I hadn't seen on him before, and maybe that's why I couldn't recognize it easily. I could feel that something had thrown him off his usual balance, but his mind was impenetrable otherwise. Whatever, I thought lamely. If he's off his game, even better for training. Maybe I'll actually be able to prove something about my skills.
A minute later, he entered, hesitantly. I was still curled up on the chair, and honestly did not have it in me to look up at him. I felt like a child, like I was pouting, but my mind was racing from one emotion to the other and I could not believe it was all because of him. This tall, brooding man whose smile-which I had never truly seen-sort of stunned me and made my stomach twist in a way it never had. Maybe it was some sort of more acute fear?
He was standing by the door, turned towards me, but I was back to staring at the wall, willing myself to calm down. His energy in the room made me feel that same pit in my stomach. Was he making me physically ill somehow?
"Hello," he said calmly, gently. When I didn't say anything, he continued. "I thought you said you didn't hate me." This was a weird enough comment to make me flick my eyes over to his. He looked stoic as ever. Back to the wall I gazed.
"I don't," I mumbled.
"Then why aren't you looking at me?" He asked, plainly, but I could tell he was curious. Doubtful, even. I swivelled in the chair so i could face him, propelling myself by putting my hand on the edge of the desk. I looked at him blankly. I was so tired of sharing my emotions with him, I couldn't handle being pushed this morning.
"There," I said. "Happy?" One of the corners of his mouth tugged upward for a brief moment.
"Oh, come on, sweetheart," he teased. "We both know I've no use for something as trivial as happiness." The way he called me sweetheart and his self-deprecating joke was not amusing to me. Part of me wanted to snap at him not to call me that, but the other half wanted to grab his hand and tell him he deserved happiness, and so much more.
Where were these feelings coming from!?
In order to keep my cool, I just rolled my eyes in response. I no longer looked into his eyes, but at the calf I had healed yesterday, which were hidden by his combat trousers.
"You're here early," I pointed out, changing the topic. "You're not supposed to be here for another half-hour."
"I wanted to get a head start on training today," he stated. At even the mention of training, I felt the soreness in my muscles from shoulder to calf. Great, I thought sourly. Even more time for torture.
I guess he could feel my reluctance to the idea, because he chuckled lightly.
"Don't worry," he assured me. "Today we're not doing anything physical." I furrowed my brow without meeting his eyes, assuming he would see and feel my questioning.
"We're going to be focusing on the Force. Particularly, shielding the mind." he said it so matter-of-factly, as if this prospect wasn't even more terrifying. I looked up at him. Soon, if and when I failed, he would have complete access to my secrets and fears and everything in between.
His dark eyes flickered with some sort of tender emotion before going back to business.
"It's difficult, I know," he claimed. "However, it is necessary if we plan on making any progress as a dyad." I could tell he still didn't totally appreciate such a Jedi-Knight label, but it was the only one available to our special bond. I chewed this over for a second, before surrendering to the idea that, yes, this was painfully necessary.
"Fine," I groaned, stretching my legs out to stand up. "Let's get this over with." At my words, he wordlessly began to lead me back to the training chamber.
"Gah!" she groaned, her eyes clenched shut, her teeth gritted together. I was currently prodding at memories of her growing up on Jakku, crying herself to sleep over not knowing where her family was, being so afraid at night that she could hardly sleep; Unkar Plutt threatening to sell her into a more physical slavery if she did not meet quotas of parts he was in need of occasionally, therefore leading Rey to isolate herself even further, not letting anyone near her; growing into an adolescent and barely being able to put food on the table, afraid she'd become too weak to scavenge. She was trying hard to keep me out, but once I found a crack in her resilience, it was easy to reach the rest of these early-life memories.
"Can we stop for just a minute, please?" she panted out, shaking with her mental exertion. I wanted to chide her for allowing herself to be so vulnerable, that other enemies would not be forgiving, but seeing this girl relive this pain was enough to make me feel sick, and I could honestly use a break from seeing it, too. I pulled out of her mind, and she slumped forward with a defeated sigh, breathing heavily and covered in a sheen of sweat.
"You have to be able to keep me out," I told her. "If you were being truly interrogated, a few minutes is not all that will befall you, it will be constant-"
"Yeah, and who outside of this room would be able to interrogate me in such a way?" She snapped at me, cutting me off. This girl was pushing my boundaries for patience all the time, wasn't she?
"Your grandfather," I scowled.
"Low blow," she retorted, looking up at me from her slumped over position.
"It's true, though," I confirmed. Maybe now would be a good time to tell her of my plan? No, no, it was too early in this form of training-I needed to be more patient. I watched as she rolled her eyes, maybe at my comment or maybe at the fact that I was sitting in perfect posture, not at all bothered by the past couple of hours we had spent doing this. I wanted to assure her it was just because I've had more practice, but right now I needed to keep my connection to her in check-we were dealing with the Force, so now was certainly not the time.
"Whatever," she muttered. She took a few deep, steadying breaths, closing her eyes more softly now. She set her jaw and rolled her shoulders back. "Okay, I'm ready again. Go ahead." she commanded, and although I felt my stomach twisting at putting her in such mental pain, I obliged.
This time, she was managing to fend me off pretty well-I probed her mind from all sides, checking the energy around it for any cracks or unguarded areas like it was a fortress. She seemed calmer, too-her eyes were closed a bit more softly, and she wasn't panting. I could feel that she was gathering enough of the Force around her to support her, and I felt approval at what she was doing.
It continued for a few more minutes, until I was about to call it off and let her have a proper rest, but then something cracked.
My mind was suddenly flooded with dark, horrifying memories. Me killing my father, her being inconsolable afterwards; her thinking she had murdered Chewie, feeling a remorse so deep it threatened to pull her under like a tidal wave; feeling the pang across the Force at my mother's death, not even having the time to properly grieve; her stabbing me on Kef Bir, and feeling like something had shattered within herself; visions of herself in her grandfather's robe, doing things she found unspeakable, like torturing me in her dream last night, and waking up in painful sobs.
I flinched at these, knowing that I was the source for over half of this pain. But then suddenly something flipped, and I guessed my flinch had given her just enough of an edge to reverse this exercise, now prying into my brain.
Both of our minds were now traversing through some of my fears and deepest regrets, but some had already been mirrored in Rey's own head: killing my father, feeling so lost and guilty and so traitorous; feeling the death of my mother, wondering late at night what it was all for?; being put under Luke's supervision, and him feeling a fear that turned to resentment he served me coldly; waking, drenched in sweat at dreams of my own grandfather, and Rey's grandfather, beckoning for me to do their bidding and commit sinister acts worthy of a true Sith, while my soul felt absolutely torn.
While I was trying to defend this unexpected attack, I could feel Rey's pain mingling with my own, and her sorrow. Maybe it was pity? Honestly, I couldn't believe she'd dare reverse this exercise and intrude on my mind like this-eventually, I was going to give her a shot at it, but not with memories like these.
After a sharp gasp left her mouth, she pulled out abruptly, leaving me feeling exposed. I opened my eyes to look at her, and she was pale and shaking, but her eyes looked so full of sorrow I thought I might've seen tears in them. I didn't want her pity, and I certainly didn't want her taunting me with the fact she knew so much about my weaknesses now. I knew I was glaring at her, but her gaze didn't change.
"Oh, Ben," she sighed softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't even know I would be able to do that." So she was sorry that she hadn't learned this trick earlier? Or that she didn't mean to best me so humiliatingly?
I was honestly at a loss for words-while I wanted to snap at her in anger, I knew the anger was really at myself. The remembrance brought my feelings of guilt and shame dangerously close to the surface, and I was skilfully trained in the art of turning those into fuel like hate and rage. I also didn't want to push her out-I wanted to pull her in. I wanted her to understand, to sympathize, to have someone who could truly see me.
"Ben?" she asked quietly, reaching one of her hands out to grasp my own. Her callused fingertips barely grazed the back of my fingers when I pulled away sharply.
"Don't," I admonished her. She retreated her arm only halfway back, looking at me quizzically, as if she was wondering what I was thinking. I was keeping my mind guarded, even though she wasn't trying to pry there. We held eye contact for a moment, my eyes scorching into her while small tears fell from hers methodically. Were they for her or me? I didn't have time to mull that over until suddenly she was on her knees in front of me, her hand on the side of my face.
I blew out a breath, unaware that I had been holding it. Her warm hand felt so nice on my face, where it hadn't been touched in decades, but I began to cringe out of it. Her hand only followed the movement. We locked eyes, and although sorrow was still there, she looked determined. I knew I probably looked as shocked as I felt, all mental defences down at this yet-another unexpected action from her today.
My eyes remained wide and cautious as she looked over my face. I didn't know what she was looking for, but I wanted her to take her time so I could keep feeling the warmth of her hand on cheek.
"Your scar," she murmured, tracing across it with her eyes, disapprovingly. I had to clear my throat before I could speak, and even then it sounded strained.
"It's the one you gave me," I shrugged slightly. She pursed her lips at this, bringing her brows down.
"I know," she breathed, and I could feel her breath whisper across my face, like it was fanning the fire of her hand. "I'm so sorry. Could I fix it?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, not changing my facial expression, barely registering her words as I focused on her eyes and her hand.
"I could heal you, make it go away, good as new," she told me calmly, still looking at it.
"No," I demanded, more harshly than I had wanted to. Her eyes locked with my eyes and she looked puzzled. I felt her silent question.
"It reminds me..." I started, not entirely sure where I was going with my sentence, how I could properly explain it to her. "It reminds me of you. Of what our connection had morphed into." She frowned.
"I don't think I like knowing a scar on your face reminds you of me," she said solemnly. "Even if I did give it to you." I shrugged and allowed myself a small, humorless smile.
"It wasn't out of hate," I pointed out. "I know that now." Her gaze softened at my voice, her mouth no longer frowning. A small triumph on my part, to actually manage to do something positive for her-even if it meant being able to erase her frown.
"You're right," she whispered. "I'm glad we're understood on that matter." she ended with her voice barely audible, and I could've sworn her eyes flickered down to my parted lips before she removed her hand from my face, pulling back, leaving coldness in her wake.
What was I doing?
One moment I was planning on stealing him off the ship to cooperate, the next I was crying over his pain, and then I'm cradling his face while wanting to move mine closer. I was truly losing my grip on sanity.
His eyes looked remarkably sadder and confused when I pulled back to rest on my knees, away from him now. But he was so well-trained at not letting his emotions betray him, that within a second his face was as blank as ever.
I had to pull away because the flutter in my stomach had become unbearable, and I had no idea what I was doing so close to him, touching him. His face had felt so cold, it was nice on my hand. It also made me concerned that he was ill.
"I think we're done for today," he interrupted my thoughts, standing up. "I have some business to attend to, and you need to recover." He talked of my recovery like I wasn't the one who attacked his mind without warning. I felt a pang of shame at that, and a pang of fear at what he meant by 'business.' I hoped it didn't include blowing up planets or gunning down entire colonies. I swallowed hard and shook the thoughts out of my head. He must have picked up on it, though, because he spoke as I stood up.
"It's just some meetings, nothing major," he assured me. I nodded once, trying not to let it seem like I was indeed dwelling on what he had meant by such a precarious statement.
We wordlessly, awkwardly, went back to my chamber where he stopped in front of my door, staring at me as I entered. I turned to look at him, eyebrows up, hoping he would pick up on my question.
"I'm going to be back this evening," he told me. Not entirely unnatural, as we had been dining together before yesterday's episode of a day. "But until then, I'll leave you to recoup." And with that, he was gone.
I spent the next few hours reliving what memories he had conjured in my mind and what ones I had in his, crying frequently and berating myself for it. I had to be stronger than this. If Finn and Poe knew I was crying over Kylo Ren's memories, they'd seriously question my sanity. As if I wasn't already.
Finn and Poe. That reminded me, I needed to keep working on reaching out to them. That was the one sliver of a compartment in my brain I had managed to keep hidden from Ben during our session, distracting him with memories about my painful childhood. It had been difficult, but at least my secret was safe. I needed to keep trying to reach out to Finn.
Although I could keep going with my original plan, I decided it was probably better if I stuck with this new one, and let the other act as a Plan B. I needed to be back with the Resistance, because I had to figure out how to get to Palpatine. Maybe, if Ben came, he could help me...
But I couldn't be certain of that, so I couldn't allow him to become a central part of my plan. If he joined me, that would be incredible; if he didn't, I didn't want to think about the ramifications that would have on my emotional state. To know my Force connection would be lost to me forever...I shuddered at the thought.
I needed to get Ben out of my thoughts, literally and figuratively, so I meditated, willing myself to reach out to Finn.
Finn, I called into the void of space and time. Be with me.
Silence, effected only by the pulse of the Force around me.
Finn, if you can hear me, I need your help.
More silence. I breathed deep through my nose, and out through my mouth.
Finn, I need your help, I'm on the-
My meditation was broken by the door opening without warning, and Ben walked in with his helmet on. The halls must not be empty, as the only time he came to my chamber without it on was when the stormtroopers were not patrolling.
I snapped out of my calm stupor and stared at up at him, suddenly afraid he had been able to hear what I'd been propelling.
"Oh, hello," he said as he entered, and I watched as his eyes dropped from where he had expected me on the bed to where I was sitting on the floor.
"Hi," I replied, trying to sound cool and collected, shutting my mind off from making any connections.
"Did I interrupt you?" he asked, taking off his helmet to set it on the desk.
"Oh, no," I brushed it off. "I was just meditating. Recovering from today." We both winced inwardly at remembering what had transpired, but I could feel that neither of us wanted to talk about it. I stood up quickly, definitely too quickly, because I started to waver and my mind felt like it was being pinched as I swayed for a second.
"Woah," I gasped, putting my hands in front of me, preparing to stumble towards the desk chair. Instead, suddenly my hands were gripping Ben's forearms and he was holding me up just above my elbows, steadying me. I closed my eyes as I waited for the wooziness to dissipate, barely aware of the cold, strong arms that were holding me still. In only a second, my mind was clear again, and I opened my eyes to see the dark fabric over Ben's chest. I looked up to meet his gaze, and he was looking at me with...concern?
I pulled politely out of grasp, and gave him a grateful smile.
"Thanks," I said nonchalantly. "I just stood up too fast." He only nodded and ceased to look so concerned, which I was already struggling to fathom without also considering the fact he had helped me, had touched me. Then I was back to thinking about how I had held his face, and I felt my face warm up. Was I seriously blushing? Out of embarrassment, I guessed.
"Oh," was all he said. "Is it okay if I stay for dinner?" he was asking me, which was strange because he hadn't asked before. I furrowed my brow for a second in confusion, and nodded.
"Of course." I moved to sit on the edge of my bed, and nodded my head at the desk, urging him to sit. He moved awkwardly to do so, and we sat in an uncomfortable silence until a droid came in with both of our meals a couple of minutes later.
"Thanks," Ben and I said at the same time. We looked at each other, and I laughed. A smile also crept across Ben's face, and I couldn't help myself but think it was a nice sight to see him happy, if only for a second.
"So," I eventually broke the silence after drinking some water. "Are we going to be focusing on exercising within the Force?" I tried to sound nonchalant, so that he wouldn't bring up what had happened a few hours ago. He obliged me by nodding while he chewed on some portion bread.
"Yes, we will," he replied. "I'll let you know when we'll shift back to combat training." I nodded now, and we carried on in silence. That is, until I caught him looking at me. I pushed my eyebrows up as if to ask, what?
"What was your favorite thing to do on Jakku?" he asked, and I realized he was putting us back into the pattern we had built up in the first few days of my being here: asking not-too-deep questions and trying to give not-too-deep answers.
"Um," I started, trying to think of the good things, trying probably too hard not to think about the bad. Which was difficult. "Probably when I'd be scavenging on my own. Sometimes that'd be cool, because I'd explore abandoned ships and I learned a lot of useful skills. I took some language codes, for example-that's how I can speak some languages other than Standard." He seemed pleased with this answer, but I was sort of sick of the silence between us, so I continued.
"I also liked finding desert flowers. At first I was afraid to dig them up, that they'd die under my care or I wouldn't have enough water for the both of us. Eventually, though, I couldn't stop myself-they made my room seem so much less lonely." I had failed slightly to try not to recall the negative things about my life on Jakku, but some memories were a mix of both the good and bad, it just depended on which lens I chose to look at it through.
"Interesting," Ben nodded, looking amused. "A desert flower-even in the harshest conditions it blooms. Refuses to wilt." He smiled softly at me, and I was so unused to even him smiling at me, but to do so with such tenderness sort of stopped the breath in my lungs.
"What?" I asked, as he was still looking at me with that tender gaze.
"It just reminds me of you, I suppose," he shrugged, and went back to eating. His defences were so lowered I felt like I could reach out and touch his heart. I could only shake my head at his compliment, which I was not used to receiving. So many new, unnatural, weird things were happening today.
We ate the rest of our respective meals in silence, and after the droid came to collect our trays, Ben looked at me before putting his helmet back on. We avoided eye contact if we weren't talking, really.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Rey," he said, and it was so strange to hear him speak my name that I again felt warmth creep into my cheeks.
"You, too, Ben," I replied, and I was grateful he stopped giving me hell over my choice of name for calling him.
"Goodnight, then," he said, and he had that soft look in his dark eyes that made me struggle to remember to breathe. Words I had never heard him speak before.
"Goodnight," I breathed, just above a whisper. Ben flashed a crooked, dimpled smile across his face and put his warped helmet on, and left my room, his cape whirling in a flourish as he exited.
He invaded my mind. I invaded his. I held his face. He grabbed my arms, steadying me. He complimented me. He bid me goodnight.
My days were becoming more bizarre by the hour, and yet I couldn't help but smile to myself as I drifted into sleep, thinking about his sure hands gripping my arms, and how soft his dark hair felt against my fingertips when I cradled his face.
