Chapter 25: Stirrings

37 ABY

They held a ceremony in recognition of Serai and Akava's lives. There were no bodies to recover, so they huddled in one of the Temple's many courtyards while Luke spoke a few words about each of his fallen students. Rey couldn't remember a word of what he'd said, only that his voice was choked with tears.

After, the rest of the Jedi had a moment to pay their respects. Baz told a story of his first meeting with Serai, when he had come to the Temple as a tiny orphan. Serai, just two years his elder, had immediately adopted him as the younger brother she had always wanted. His voice cracked as he described their first practice drills, and how he had run to Luke sobbing with a split lip after he had told Serai that he wouldn't hit a girl and she had thoroughly trounced him in retribution. Janneh described how Serai had taught her to braid her hair and shoot a blaster. Colt told them that she had always been the first to notice his changes of mood, and had never made him feel strange for the distance he kept from others. Ninsar recounted how Serai had taught her to read, when she was new to the Temple and had felt so stupid in comparison to the other younglings. "She was like the mother I never knew," the Mirilian girl explained softly. "She will live in my heart until I am gone, or maybe even after."

Through it all, Rey watched silently, a lump forming in her throat. She hadn't spoken to Ben since their disastrous argument in the infirmary, but she could sense him lingering at the back of the room. Beside him stood Poe Dameron and the ex-trooper. Three outsiders, looking in.

She hadn't known Serai well, and she wondered now at the reason for it. She was like a mother to them,she thought wistfully. A sister. A confidant, and a friend. She blinked hard and realized there were tears in her eyes. She was everything to them that Ben was to me. Unbidden, her eyes flickered across the room, taking in the smooth lines of his profile. The corners of his mouth were turned down, and his eyes glistened as brightly as her own. Everything suddenly felt monumentally unfair: that Ben could receive the blame for the death of two Jedi he had deeply respected, even risked his life for. That the rest of the Order could acknowledge the beauty in Serai's life, but not see her character reflected in the brooding man at the back of the room.

"Akava was like my brother," Ninsar was saying, and Rey shook her head abruptly, realizing she had missed much of the ceremony. "I know that the Jedi Order is a brotherhood, and a sisterhood, but to him I was closer than most. He had a beautiful mind."

Afterwards, they drifted separate directions, each seeking to quiet their sense of loss in his or her own way. Rey found herself standing beside Poe, behind whom the stormtrooper drifted like a silent shadow.

"I never got the chance to thank either of you," she managed to say. "Without you I would be dead, or worse, I would have given Republic secrets to the enemy." She offered a short, formal bow. "I am in your debt."

Poe watched her silently for a moment. "There is no debt to me, Rey," he said finally. For the first time in her recollection, his voice was oddly somber. "I am honored to have fought beside a soldier so fearless and unwavering."

"Jedi aren't soldiers," she told him gently. "We are peacekeepers. Knowledge-bringers. Only in times of war can we be mistaken for soldiers."

"And how do you decide when it's war?" the trooper interjected. His eyes were so dark they were almost black, and they seemed to scrutinize Rey's very soul. From another, the interruption would have felt like an accusation, but from him, she saw it for what it was: a desperate plea for understanding.

"I have never known war—" she started, then fumbled. "What do you call yourself?"

"FN-21—" the trooper began.

"Finn," Poe cut in. "His name is Finn."

Finn's eyes cut sideways, the warm light of gratitude filling them as he looked at Poe. "Yes," he said finally. "You can call me Finn."

Rey nodded. "Finn, then. I am too young to know war, and so in this, I may not have the answers you seek. As a Jedi I was raised to protect the weak and to maintain balance in the Force and in the galaxy. If anyone challenges that balance, or inflicts unprovoked harm on another, I will use what authority I have to mediate the conflict. Non-violence is often a more effective tool in that regard."

"Talk first, shoot later," Poe hummed in agreement.

"But what if you've been told to act?" Finn pressed. "What if your Master told you that every member of the First Order was an enemy? Your friend killed more than one trooper on the Finalizer. Would you go to war on someone else's orders?"

Rey thought hard for a moment. "Not if I thought the cause was unjust," she said finally. "I trust Master Skywalker's wisdom, but I don't believe he would force my hand if I thought non-violence was a better option. Part of being a Jedi is knowing oneself, and being in tune with the Force. We all must decide for ourselves when fighting is necessary, and when it is not."

"That's a great deal of responsibility," Poe said. "In the military, we follow orders."

Rey turned to him. "Yes," she said, softly. "I can see how that would be simpler. There is a reason that the Jedi are separate from the New Republic. We are meant to be a neutral third-party. We are trained from a very young age, not just in battle, but in diplomacy, education, and healing. Our mandate is not to fight, unless the circumstances demand it."

"But Skywalker is Senator Organa's brother," Poe argued. "Ben is her son. Surely you can't claim to be entirely detached from the Republic."

Rey shook her head, though the mention of Ben crept under her skin. Poe did know who he was. And he also knew Ben was the Basilisk. How many of the others knew, by now? "You're right," she said. "No system is perfect."

Finn watched her intently, his dark gaze still seeming to search for answers. "Why involve yourself in battles that aren't your own?" he asked finally. "You could walk away. Disappear into the galaxy."

"When you are one with the Force, every battle becomes your own," another voice said, as Luke joined their circle. "Imbalance anywhere creates tension everywhere. We cannot help but be drawn to conflict. If we cannot keep the balance, who will?"

Finn bowed his head respectfully in acknowledgement, although Rey could see the lingering curiosity in his gaze. "Yes, Jedi Master," he said.

"You chose to leave the First Order," Luke said gently. "It is not a thing that is done often. You have shown a great deal of courage."

Finn stared at the tips of his boots, which Rey realized were—much like the rest of his clothes—borrowed from the Jedi Temple. The simple tunic fit his broad shoulders well. "Perhaps it wasn't courage," he admitted finally. "Perhaps it was fear. Or disgust."

"Many feel disgust for the injustices that are demanded of them," Luke told him. "Few have the bravery to act upon it."

Finn blinked, as if surprised. "Yes, Master Skywalker," he said finally. "Thank you."

Luke nodded and turned to Poe, who was watching Finn with a strange look of pride. "You have no doubt already reported to the New Republic," he said, shifting the topic. "I would like to speak with you regarding next moves. If it is to be war, the Jedi will need to take certain measures in preparation." His gaze flickered back to Finn momentarily. "Perhaps you would like to join Colt and the younglings for afternoon meditation," he offered kindly. "I find that it helps to clear the mind, and place grave worries into perspective. Rey can take you to them."

As Luke and Poe departed, Rey was left standing with Finn. The former-trooper's eyes followed Poe for a moment, and then traveled back to her.

"I owe you another thanks," Rey said, as she turned to lead him towards the training grounds. "I know that you saw Colt and Serai in the rocks back on Ilum. You could have killed them but you didn't." She met his dark eyes for a long moment. "I don't know why you chose that way, but I am grateful that you did. I may not owe Poe a debt, but if you ever need a Jedi, you must only call on me and I will come."

Finn looked taken aback. "It was you, wasn't it? The voice in my head."

Rey almost stopped in surprise. "You heard me?" she asked. "In your mind?"

"I heard someone pleading me not to fire," Finn said slowly. "I thought maybe you were trying a Jedi mind trick. I've heard of those."

Rey considered him for a moment. "I've never tried to control the mind of an intelligent being," she said slowly. "What you heard was a desperate thought, sent into the Living Force." She paused. "If you heard me, there is more to you than meets the eye, Finn."

Finn's brow furrowed, but he didn't speak. It seemed his questions were spent, for the time being. They walked in silence down the sloping sward towards the training grounds.

"Colt is there," she told him, pointing towards the edge of the forest, where her friend was speaking to four diminutive figures. "Perhaps you will find meditation even more useful than Master Skywalker thought, if you can truly touch the Force."

Finn swallowed hard and nodded. She watched his back as he marched onwards down the slope, but only for a moment. Someone else had caught her attention—a tall figure, spinning through a series of complex saber forms in a secluded corner of the drill area.

Rey watched him in silence for a moment. She had no desire to fight with Ben again, but after the funeral, something in him called to her. For a moment, she imagined that the courtyard had held caskets, only there were three instead of two. In her mind, she approached on heavy feet, taking in Serai's serene profile and Akava's aquiline nose. The third casket stood empty, but she could almost imagine his pale face staring up at her—his dark lashes fanning his cheeks forevermore.

He could have died searching for the Knights of Ren, she thought miserably. And I never would have known.

Decision made, she forced her feet onwards. It was a short walk, but it felt like it took an eternity. She knew that he could feel her approaching, but he didn't pause in his forms. She stopped by one of the equipment sheds, leaned her shoulder against the aged wood, and finally allowed herself to watch him.

He had lost some of his fluidity, but what he lacked in grace, he made up for in strength. Each of his movements was perfectly timed, his balance shifting automatically to maximize the power behind each blow. His tunic clung to the center of his back with sweat, but otherwise he showed no sign of his exertion. His eyes were open but blank, as if he were somewhere else. He had aged some in seven years, but to Rey's disgust she found him even more beautiful than she had at fifteen. The soft curve of his mouth seemed so at odds with the broad build of his shoulders and the steady power of his legs. He looked as if he could kill without thinking, but she could just as easily imagine those lips pursed, dark brows drawn together as he poured over an ancient text, or fiddled with the wiring on a faulty droid.

She shook herself. Those thoughts belong to someone else, she reminded herself. She is gone. And this man has killed without thinking.

As if broken from his reverie by her condemnation, Ben sheathed his saber in the middle of a form and pivoted towards her. His eyes were guarded, like a wounded animal that feared more abuse. The silence between them stretched, and she felt strangely caught, as if watching him in such an unguarded fashion amounted to a crime.

"Your saber is different," she said finally. "What happened to your old one?"

"It's the same saber," he answered gruffly. "Just modified to vent excess energy."

"Is your kyber crystal unstable?" she asked.

Ben narrowed his eyes but didn't answer. He clipped the saber to his belt and took a step nearer, then stopped abruptly. "I'm sorry for what I said yesterday," he said in a rush. "I was too familiar with you. I—I was acting on how things once were. You were right. We have both changed."

Rey stared at him in surprise. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it hadn't been an apology. "I—I'm sorry for snapping at you," she echoed uncertainly. "I was—I am very angry. With you. But I shouldn't have let my temper get the best of me." It was strangely formal, for them, but a smile quirked the corner of his mouth nonetheless. Something about it made the tension in her chest lessen slightly.

"I should have known you would still be angry," he said. "Should have expected it. I don't deserve your forgiveness for what I did."

Which part? Rey wanted to ask. Abandoning me, or murdering in cold blood? But the wound felt too fresh, too raw, to speak those words. She remembered what Luke had said. She remembered her answer: I can bring him back to us. She wasn't ready to forgive him for her own hurt, but she could forgive him for the rest.

"You saved my life," she said instead. "I could have thanked you for that."

His eyes hardened at the memory. "I wouldn't have had to, if I'd gotten to Ren before you," he said darkly.

Rey's eyes narrowed. "If you think that would've been a reasonable solution, you've learned less than I thought," she said. "Killing anyone who you think might pose a threat to me isn't any kind of answer."

Ben stared at her for a moment, uncertain.

"That was your whole plan, wasn't it?" she continued. The wound was fresh, and here she was peeling off the scab. It felt good, though. Cleansing. "You lied to me about why you were leaving the Temple. It wasn't to help Leia at all. You wanted to go after the Knights of Ren, and Luke let you. Why? Why couldn't you tell me? I would've come with you." Her voice cracked on with you.

"That was why," he said softly. "I didn't want you to come with me."

"Because it wouldn't have been safe," she said, half statement, half question.

"Yes. Rey, the things I said to you when I left—they were—I shouldn't have—what I mean is that I didn't mean—"

"You thought you would make a clean break," she said coldly. "I figured that out a while ago, Ben. I'm not a child anymore." He had the grace to look ashamed. "I hope you like this clean break. I hope you like the pain that you caused." He opened his mouth to interject. "The things that you said hurt me," she cut him off savagely. "When I was a child, they stung. I was stupid enough to believe some of them—to believe that I didn't matter, that you thought I was an irritating child. But that hurt faded a long time ago—when I realized that those were lies. The part that I can't erase is the fact that you knew how leaving would hurt me, and yet you did it anyways. Maybe you told yourself that it was to protect me, but I think that you were running away. You were scared, and rather than telling me that, you convinced yourself that your intentions were noble." She paused, panting. She wasn't crying, for once, but she could feel how close her rage was to the surface. It burned at her fingertips, at the backs of her eyelids. Taking a deep breath, she forced it down. "That's what I've wanted to say to you," she said, struggling to keep her voice level. "What you did was wrong. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust you again."

Ben's lips were pressed together in a firm line. The muscle under his left eye twitched. Rey didn't reach for the bond between them—hadn't reached for it in years—but she knew that if she did, she would find it locked to her. "I can't ask you to," he said finally. "What I did to you was unforgiveable."

"Maybe," Rey answered. "Maybe not. But I meant what I said before. I'm not the girl who you left. I won't ever be her again."

Ben watched her steadily, and for the first time since she had seen him again, there was a spark in his eyes. Something that looked like hope. "I know you're not," he told her softly. "And I'm not the boy who left you."

It wasn't a promise, but if felt like one.

She didn't see him again for three days. She told herself that it was a coincidence, but deep down she knew that she had been avoiding him. She needed time to process their conversation, to come to terms with his admissions and pick over her own feelings in private.

For three days she thought long and hard, turning ideas until they were as smooth and worn as stones polished by a river.

What they had been before was gone, she concluded. She could no longer depend on him entirely, as she once had. She couldn't love him, or worship him, or allow him to own her. But she could treat him as a brother. The Jedi Order permitted such bonds between Knights, and even she could not deny that war was coming. Having Ben back was the only comfort in a world of uncertainty. With him beside her, she could face whatever was to come. She only had to convince Luke that his nephew deserved another chance.

It was clear from the actions of the others that many of them didn't share this belief. Loren and Colt were the only two Rey had seen speaking to Ben since his return, aside from Poe Dameron. It seemed that those two did know each other, perhaps from before Ben's time at the Jedi Temple, although Rey could see the guardedness in Poe's eyes when he spoke to the Jedi. She wondered what had happened on Hux's command ship that made the pilot so wary.

The others she knew would be more difficult to convince. They all bought into Luke's version of the story—that Ben had gone rouge and abandoned them in a moment of need. Do they know that Luke sent him off alone? she wondered. Do they know that he was hunting the Knights of Ren?

On the fourth day since their return to the Jedi Temple, she approached Ben on the training grounds, again. This time, the yard was filled with bodies. Everyone from the younglings to the oldest Knights were practicing sparring drills, while Poe was teaching Finn how to, in his own words, "hit the broad side of a barn" with a blaster. Every Jedi had a training partner aside from Ben, who moved through his forms on his own, seemingly unaffected by his solitude.

During a pause in his drills, Rey slid into the space across from him. In her hands she held two practice sabers, their power attenuated to avoid injuries. She weighed them carefully in her palms as he looked up at her, an expression of surprise skittering across his features before he schooled his face back into a passive mask. Wordlessly, she tossed one of the sabers to him; he caught it easily as she unsheathed her own.

"Let's see what you've learned," she said. He blinked, thrown off by the teasing note in her voice, and she sprang.

Their sabers met overhead with enough force to shatter most wooden practice blades. They twisted through a series of forms, bodies moving effortlessly as if in planned choreography. It was exhilarating to spar with him again, she realized. Rey was by no means the most accomplished saber-wielder at the Temple, but she could often rely upon trickery and speed to stretch a fight out long enough that her endurance gave her an edge. But Ben had always seemed able to read her mind in these battles; to predict her moves before she even began them. She knew it wasn't the work of their bond, but rather an intuition that he had developed over years of training with her. She found herself becoming ever more inventive in her attempts to best him, and he, for his part, seemed content to defend himself, his eyes tracking her every move in a way that made her skin burn.

They broke apart and circled one another, feet kicking up dust. Her mind blocked out everything but the fight. She watched the subtle shift of Ben's weight and parried just in time to catch the blow streaking towards her ribs. He moved onto the offensive, and she danced back out of reach, dodging and spinning to avoid the full weight of his attacks. She had been right before—he had grown stronger. The power behind his blade was enough to set her teeth rattling if she caught a strike head-on, and she moved ceaselessly, leaping and turning and twisting. Circling and parrying and dodging until her breath came in short pants and the hilt of her weapon felt slippery with sweat.

They circled each other again, assessing. "You've gotten faster," Ben said. "But you still favor your right side."

Rey hissed in irritation and leapt back into battle. Their sabers crackled and hummed with the speed and frequency of their clashes. Rey could feel her strength flagging as the fight stretched on. Her eyes homed in on the pulse jumping in Ben's neck. He was tired, too.

One of her feet tangled with his unexpectedly and she staggered. Their sabers caught in a lock and pressed forward, a battle of sheer strength. Rey poured her remaining energy into the Force, struggling to hold her weapon in place. For a moment it seemed neither would prevail, until slowly, ever so slowly, she started to lose ground. Gritting her teeth she dug in hard, fighting back—

All at once she lost traction as Ben executed a complicated twist of his saber, seeming to disappear from before her. She stumbled forward as their hilts caught together, and felt her weapon being torn from her grasp. The world spun as his free hand caught her hip and jerked. She found herself pinned against him, one of his forearms pressed gently to her throat and the other banding her waist.

"Do you yield?" he murmured.

The tone of his voice was unexpected. The rough drag of syllables, pronounced so near to her throat that she could feel the humid warmth of his breath, sent a strange jolt through her body. She felt her muscles go slack, her head tipping back to rest on his shoulder. She was shivering everywhere, she realized, as she came back to herself. With every panting breath she could feel the firm pressure of his forearm against her stomach. Her head spun crazily as she breathed in the heady scent of rain and pine.

"W-what?" she stammered.

Ben didn't answer. Instead, he released her suddenly, as if burned. She stumbled in surprise and caught herself.

Stop it, she thought ruthlessly. She was reeling in shock. She had been certain that she could control her emotions around Ben, but it seemed her body had a mind of its own. She swallowed hard, bending to pick up her saber. "Clever trick," she said, when she was certain that her voice would come out steadily. "You'll have to teach me that one."

Ben, pacing away from her, stopped. He didn't turn to look at her, but he nodded shortly. "Yes," he said finally. "Yes, I will."

She refused to watch as he left her standing there, alone.

When Ben had first left Yavin 4, it had been Colt that Rey had turned to in her grief. For someone so reserved in his own personal life, he seemed to understand a great deal of what Rey was going through. And he never gloated over being right.

You don't look at me like I hold the galaxy in my hands, he had told her once. But he will leave you one day.

He had also never expressed anger over being second in Rey's heart. What you had with him was different,Colt had told her once. I can still respect what I can't understand.

Can't understand? she had asked him.

I've always been able to read people, in the Force, Colt had explained. It didn't make it easier to interact with them, but I could sense what they were feeling. With the two of you, it was as if you were speaking another language. You loved one another in a way that was elemental. I don't know if that makes sense.

Yes, Rey had answered. It makes perfect sense.

Their friendship had blossomed out of the icy ground of her frozen heart like a spring flower. She would never need someone again the way she had needed Ben, but she could still appreciate Colt's wisdom, and sense of humor. In return, he had looked out for her in ways large and small. Sometimes his was the only smile she saw in a day, and other times his voice was the only one raised in her defense, though she knew it pained him to do it. She eventually came to trust his judgement more than she trusted her own.

So when Ben came staggering back into her life, a blurred puzzle of violent anger and quiet apologies, his advice was the first she sought.

"I can't tell you what to do, Rey," Colt sighed, setting aside the holopad he had been reading from. "You know him better than I do."

"But maybe you see him more clearly than I do," Rey countered. "When he first returned, I thought maybe Luke was right. There was such darkness in him. If you'd seen him with Ren, Colt, you would've been as afraid as I was. He was—it was like he was someone I'd never met."

"Never met, or never wanted to see?" Colt questioned her, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "There's always been a sharp edge in him, Rey. It was there even when you couldn't see it."

"There are things about him you don't understand," Rey said slowly, thinking of Snoke. "Things I can't tell you. The way he behaved when we were younger—some of it wasn't his fault."

"He has always questioned the code," Colt reminded her.

Rey sat for a moment in silence. But Colt wasn't done.

"Though to be fair, we've pretty much taken the code on faith, up to this point."

Rey looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, how can we judge something as good if we don't know the alternative?" Colt continued. "Take the code for example. It's one way of viewing the Force. But there are others." He waved the holopad under Rey's nose. "The witches on Dathomir have a totally different understanding of the Force than we Jedi. There's technically considered dark siders, but they're not inherently evil."

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"I'm just saying, the others are suspicious of Ben because he has always questioned the status quo. If you want him to stay here, maybe you need to stop trying to make him fit into a box, and start opening the box." He shrugged. "It's just a thought."

"Who said I wanted him to stay here?" Rey demanded.

Colt leveled his gaze on her. "Would you be asking me about this if you didn't?"

His advice on Luke was even less clear.

"I'm not sure it really makes sense, to be honest," he told her, when she explained her argument with Luke before the funeral. "I agree that he seems to be using a double standard as applies to you and Ben. It would seem that you've gained his trust in a way that Ben never did."

"But that's what I don't understand," Rey told him. "Ben is his nephew. Shouldn't he trust him more than anyone?"

"Maybe he trusted Ben once, and the trust was broken," Colt suggested. "Or maybe doesn't view family the way you or I do."

Either option was entirely possible, but Rey wasn't sure that either fit with her understanding of the Jedi Master.

"Then ask him," Colt recommended. "Without attacking him, this time."

But Rey's best attempts to get Master Skywalker alone were to no avail. When she knocked on his study door, he was always either absent, or deep in conversation with Leia or one of her advisors. War was looming on the horizon, and Luke had no time to spare for her entreaties on Ben's behalf.

Her efforts to convince the others led to even less success. Most had already aligned themselves as either neutral or in opposition to Ben. When she tried to explain his situation to them, she was met with terse answers and unyielding pushback. It seemed that to the others, Ben was a dark presence in their midst—a renegade whose absence had been a blessing, and whose return heralded war.

"They think the war starts out there," Colt said wisely, when she brought her troubles to him once again. "What they don't understand, is that it actually starts in here." He pressed two fingers to his temple.

When Rey woke, she thought for a moment that she was still dreaming. She had a vague memory of Ben standing on a misty hilltop, a spear in one hand and the other on her shoulder. But instead of the hilltop, she saw only the glow of moonlight across stark walls. Something soft rustled beneath her ear, and she pressed a hand to it. Her pillow.

What a strange dream, she thought, remembering the smile on Ben's face. It had been so odd, and yet so beautiful.

She realized suddenly that something had changed. Her senses came to full alert, heart pounding in the near darkness. There was a whisper on the edge of her mind, like breeze drifting through an open door.

An open door.

The bond.

Alarmed, she twisted around.

He was there. Sprawled back against her pillows, watching her sleep.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, nearly falling off the side of her bed. "Did you break in?"

Ben's mouth twitched. "I'm not really here," he told her. "Remember? Force projection."

Rey scowled, dragging the covers over herself. "What the kriff, Ben," she began. "I'm sleeping."

He blinked at her, and suddenly she could see the exhaustion around his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said hesitantly. "I should have woken you sooner. I don't have any more control over the—over this than you do. But you seemed tired so I—I thought maybe the projection would end before you woke up."

"Where are you actually?"

"In my room," he answered quickly. "To me it seems like you're here. I can't see your surroundings—just you."

Rey sighed heavily, turning onto her back. She felt sluggish with sleep, comforted by the warmth of her dream. She realized she was too exhausted to fight. "Do you think I could get up and walk away?" she asked. "If I left through that door—" she pointed to her door, "would I be outside your room, or mine?"

Ben chuckled under his breath. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "Perhaps we should have spent more time over the years testing the capacities of our Force bond."

Rey frowned at him, but didn't answer. His laughter was raspy with sleep, his eyes soft on her face. There was something about the languor in his voice that calmed her. Or maybe it was her own half-conscious state.

"Or you could stay," he offered carefully. "Until it's over. I can be quiet. Maybe you'll fall asleep again."

Rey huffed under her breath. "My feet are too cold," she complained.

"You're always cold," Ben teased. His voice was so tentative that it almost broke her heart. He was trying so hard to be what she wanted him to be. The problem was, neither of them knew what that was. Slowly, he lifted one arm, opening a space for her. His throat bobbed. His eyes held a question.

"This doesn't mean that I forgive you," Rey warned.

"I know," he whispered. "I don't want your forgiveness. I haven't earned it yet."

Satisfied, she curled into the space beneath his arm, and felt it curl over her shoulders. He was a blazing source of heat, and she reveled in it. The scent of him was so strong, under piles of blankets, that she felt drunk with it. She was still furious, she reminded herself. It was a temporary truce.

Besides, she couldn't quite remember why she was angry, with the tickle of his breath on her skin.

"I hear that you've been crusading on my behalf," he whispered into her hair. "I could've saved you the effort—they'll never trust me after Ilum."

"Do you ever feel like the Jedi Order is a box?" Rey asked.

Ben paused. "Sometimes," he admitted. "I have always felt that the Code demands perfection. But how can that be right, if the Jedi are a living embodiment of the Force? The Force drives everything in the universe—life, death, balance. And none of it is perfect."

Rey was silent, thinking.

"I thought about what you said before," Ben murmured. "About how destroying the Knights of Ren wasn't the right way to protect you."

Rey froze, fearing another argument.

"You were right," he went on quickly. "I was—I don't know what I was thinking. Well, that's not entirely true." The puff of his breath against her ear was both comforting and distracting. "I was thinking that I couldn't tell Luke about any of it—about Snoke, and how he was looking for you." His voice trembled. "I couldn't count on him to keep you safe from a threat he didn't know existed. I wasn't even sure I could keep you safe, if Snoke turned his eye on you again."

"What does Snoke have to do with the Knights of Ren?" Rey asked sleepily, her lips brushing Ben's throat. She felt him swallow and shift against her.

"They're his, Rey," Ben answered unsteadily. "They obey him. I suspected it before, but now I'm certain of it. I thought that if I found his hand, I could use it to lead me back to him. I could kill him. And then you would be safe. But I was wrong. I should have stayed with you."

Rey shifted out from under Ben's arm, suddenly fully awake. "You went looking for that monster?" she demanded. "You thought you could go after him alone? Kriff, Ben, what would you have done if you'd actually found him? He would've destroyed you!"

"Maybe not," Ben started defensively. "I've learned things. Things that I didn't know before. I'm stronger than I was, Rey."

Rey growled at him in frustration, leaning over him to pin his shoulders to the bed. "You idiot," she snarled. "You could have died! I would've thought you were safe with Leia while your skeleton was gathering dust in Wild Space!"

Ben looked up at her helplessly, eyes wide, pupils dilated. She realized they were both breathing hard.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just wanted you to be safe."

"I can keep myself safe, Benjamin Organa-Solo!" she snapped. "I don't need you playing white knight. When are you going to get it through your thick skull that we're in this together!?"

Ben stared at her silently, as her own words filtered into her brain. We? she wondered. Is there a we? Could there still be, after all these years?

"Rey," Ben said, very seriously. "I need to tell you something. It's—important. I haven't been completely honest with you."

Her eyes narrowed.

He swallowed, struggling to meet her stare. "After everyone found out about my relation to Vader, I—" he paused. "What's that?"

Rey tipped her head to the side. Someone was pounding on a door, somewhere, but it sounded faint.

"Nothing," she said, turning back to Ben. "What were you—"

The space beside her was empty. He was gone.

The pounding came again. "Rey!" It was Colt's voice. "Wake up, I need your help!"

Tripping and stumbling, she dragged herself out of bed and staggered to the door. She laid her palm flat on the reader and it hissed open. "What?" she snapped.

Colt froze, surprised. "Umm…is this a bad time?"

"It's the middle of the night," Rey grumbled. "Of course it's a bad time."

Colt looked around, seemingly dazed. "Ah. Yes. So it is."

"What's going on?" Rey asked. "What could possibly be so important that you forgot it was the middle of the night?"

"I can…come back," Colt said hesitantly.

Rey sighed. "Forget it. I'm awake now." Nevermind that she had been already. She beckoned him into the room. "What the problem?"

"Not a problem, exactly," Colt said, bending to fuss a stack of papers on her desk. He sank into her chair. "I was thinking about our conversation—about other ways of the knowing the Force. And I did a bit of reading. Have you ever heard of the Dai Bendu?"

Rey squinted at him. "You woke me up in the middle of the night asking for help because you've done a bit of reading?"

"Answer the question," Colt pressed, seemingly unaffected by her ire. "Have you?"

Rey racked her memory. "Maybe once," she said. "In passing. They were some of the first Force-users, weren't they?"

"Yes," Colt told her. "They lived on a planet called Ando Prime. Some believe they were the intial founders of the Je'daii Order on Tython. It was a precursor to the Jedi Order of the Galactic Republic."

Rey gave a jaw-cracking yawn. "Is this leading somewhere?" she asked.

"Yeah, sorry," Colt told her, resting the spine of his book on her desk. His thumb marked a page. "This is one of the ancient Jedi texts," he explained. "I was cross-referencing it for mentions of early Force-users. I remembered reading something about the Dai Bendu when I was younger, but I couldn't remember what it was." Gently, he let the book fall open.

The two-page spread he had opened to was dominated by a large drawing of a seated figure bearing a light saber in both hands. The saber split the figure in half; the left half was shaded in jet black on a white background, right half its inverse.

The image drew an immediate connection in Rey's mind. Glancing up from the book, her eyes found the ink drawing still pinned to the wall above her desk. The edges were bent, and yellowed with age, but the likeness was still unmistakable. In the drawing, Rey backflipped over Ben's outstretched hand, their frozen shapes immortalized by his pen for her tenth birthday.

Colt followed her gaze slowly, and she watched the color slowly leave his face as he took in the neat initials looped at the bottom corner of the page.

"It's the Prime Jedi," he said softly, eyes not leaving the drawing. "The first Jedi. Said to have built the First Jedi Temple on the lost planet Ahch-To. It's not clear how the Prime Jedi relates to the Dai Bendu, although if the Je'daii were precursors to our current Order, it seems that the Prime Jedi should be the link between the two." He paused, clearly waiting for her to absorb the information. Rey nodded for him to continue. "The Dai Bendu believed in perfect balance: equal parts dark and light. It's written that Tython had two moons, Ashla and Bogan. Disciples who strayed too close to the dark were sent to meditate in the eternal light of Ashla, while those who strayed too far into the light were sent to the constant darkness of Bogan."

Rey frowned. "The first Jedi wanted to meditate in darkness?"

Colt shrugged uncertainly. "I'm not sure if they were really Jedi at that point," he admitted. "But the Prime Jedi surely must have come out of their Order. It's the only explanation that makes sense. And doesn't the image evoke the same concept?" His hand splayed over the page. "Perfect halves of light and dark. Both contained in the same person."

Rey leaned closer, squinting. The two halves seemed to join perfectly at their center. Another memory pressed at the corners of her mind. Something from a dream…

"Or," Colt continued. "Two people."

Rey frowned. The misty hilltop surrounded by pillars was returning to her. Two robed figures in black and white. Waiting for her. "What makes you think it's two people?" she asked.

Colt flipped rapidly to another page in the book. "The pronouns used to the describe the Prime Jedi," he said excitedly. "In most of the modern texts, masculine or genderless pronouns are used. But the original text is in Coremaic. It's no longer a spoken language, and few can read it fluently. It took me ages to realize that it has more pronoun forms than Aurabesh. We have just three—masculine, feminine, and a genderless form, which doubles as a plural form."

Rey shook her head in confusion.

"He, she, and they," Colt simplified. "At first I thought they were describing the Prime Jedi as a genderless entity—or at least choosing not to select a binary gender. But tonight I was checking my translation, and I realized in Coremaic, there's a fourth form, so that the genderless and plural forms can't be confused. The word used to describe the Prime Jedi was a strictly plural pronoun. In other words, the Prime Jedi wasn't a single person: they were a duality."

"But what does that even mean?"

Colt shrugged. "No idea," he told her. "It just reminded me of you."

Plural you, Rey thought. Not singular you.

The bond was a silent silver thread in her mind. An invisible string, tethering her to Ben. If ever there had been a time to tell someone else, it was now. She opened her mouth and the words froze on her tongue. It's not our duty or our responsibility to share something so personal,Ben had said. Would he forgive her for sharing their secret? Even for a good cause?

Colt watched her expectantly.

"I had a dream while I was in the infirmary," she said rapidly. "I was on a hill. There were two people there, in black and white robes. The color arrangements were inverse, like your drawing. Black robe and white tunic, white robe and black tunic."

Colt leaned closer. "Did they say anything?"

Rey racked her memory. "They said they were waiting for me," she said. "They said I was a 'ripple in the Force.' There was more to the dream but that was all they said."

"Hmm," Colt hummed, leaning back in his chair. "It does support my interpretation of the text."

"It could have been just a dream," Rey said uncomfortably.

Colt's green eyes found her face. "Maybe," he said, sounding unconvinced. He stood abruptly, snapping the book shut. "I have to do more reading," he said. "I'll tell you if I find anything." Without another word, he spun on his heel and slipped out of her room.

Rey was left sitting in dumbfounded silence, trying to process everything he'd told her. Was it possible that he was correct? Could the Force bond she shared with Ben be something more than a one-off twist of fate? Did it connect them to a past so ancient it had been forgotten?

She sat a moment longer in forlorn silence. In the dark square of her window, she could see the very beginnings of dawn creeping across the sky. It occurred to her suddenly that Ben was closer than he had been in years. She didn't need the Force bond to talk to him. She could be at his door in less than five minutes. He was probably sleeping, but he would wake if she knocked.

What would he think, if I went to him now? Rey wondered. Would he think I had forgiven him? Have I forgiven him? What did he want to tell me?

She lost herself to her thoughts as the sun hitched itself over the horizon and lumbered into the sky. She was afraid to see him, she finally admitted to herself. Afraid of what she might say. Afraid of what she might do. Afraid that she could still remember the shape of him, pressed against her under blankets.

They would speak again when they were both ready, she decided finally. There would be time.

A/N: eek yes I know it's been so long! wanted to quickly say thank you to the incredibly kind reviewers who inspired me to continue! y'all are seriously the best :) hope you enjoy...going to try to post another tonight if I can edit fast enough!

hope you enjoyed the little bit of Jedi history/lore. have been excited for a while to bring these aspects into the story because they were a huge part of what inspired the story in the first place. some if it is "canon" (or at least I found it on wookiepedia hehe) like the Dai Bendu and their two moons. the bit about the Prime Jedi being a duality is my own head canon (or at least I have not seen it elsewhere, but perhaps someone else has!)

ALSO thank you to the very kind reviewer who pointed out that the Chiss Ascendency (mentioned previously in this story, on the snowy planet where Ben & co. first encounter the Knights of Ren) is located in the Unknown Regions and therefore would not be known to Luke and/or the New Republic: whoops! For the purposes of this story, let's assume that the Chiss made contact with the New Republic post-Empire and formed some sort of diplomatic ties :)