Chapter 13: Dimples
"Save me, I'm lost
Oh lord, I've been waiting for you
I'll pay any cost
Just save me from being confused."
-Show Me What I'm Looking For, Carolina Liar
29 ABY
Hanna City was the first major metropolis Rey had ever set foot in, and she immediately found herself wishing she had the eyes of an Azumel to take it all in.
It was near dawn when they set down at a landing pad on the skirts of the city's main sector. Rey had been napping in the copilot seat while Ben manned the controls, and she could sense the yawn he was holding back as he ran through a final systems' check and handed over a few credits to the hangar's pair of service droids.
"Fuel only," he advised them. "Don't mess with anything else."
One of the droids made a disgruntled remark about mistrustful off-worlders that caused Rey to giggle.
Ben shot her a baleful glare that did little to dampen her amusement.
Their walk through the city was charming. Ben pointed out landmarks—the Chandrila Senate House where Leia worked, the eatery that served the best marmal-fish on the planet, and a multitude of public parks sporting neatly trimmed flowerbeds, swaying trees, and sparkling fountains. Rey knew he had grown up on Chandrila, and so being there with him was a rare, precious glimpse into his past. She tried hard to imagine him being dragged between shops by an industrious Leia, or skipping rocks on fussily-maintained ponds with Han and Chewie.
It was difficult because her mind kept returning to the older, softer Ben that she had seen in the kyber caves. The one whose gaze had pierced straight through her, as if he knew things about her that she couldn't possibly fathom. It was her Ben, after all, she had decided. Which didn't make the things he had said any less disturbing.
Soon enough they passed onto a busier street, where the shops had started to come alive with the rising of the sun. Rey edged a little closer to Ben as the crowds picked up, and she found her gaze roving over the many hundreds of faces that swarmed past them.
"I didn't know there were this many people in the whole galaxy," she breathed, earning herself a bark of laughter from Ben.
"Just wait until you see Coruscant," he warned her.
The Chandrilans were fascinating, if a little clumsy, and Rey was transfixed by the masses. Denizens of all species flowed past in a never ceasing deluge—Twi'leks beside Rodians, humans beside Trandoshans, even a pair of Mon Calamari strolled past, chatting with Jawa that came barely to their waists. And the clothing! Silks and wool, glinting brocade and fine lace and fabrics of all wefts and weaves, jewels dripping from collarbones and wrists and earlobes. Rey's head spun so quickly in pursuit of it all that she very nearly tripped over a curb.
Ben's hand shot out at the last moment and caught her by the collar. "You might want to close your mouth before you start catching flies," he advised wryly, the laughter in his voice taking the bite from his words.
Han and Leia had a modest suite overlooking a park filled with natural waterfalls. The lift to their floor was lined with transparisteel, and Rey had to exercise all of her self-control and remind herself that fourteen was much too old to be pressing her nose to the glass and gazing out at the city in glee.
Ben's lips twitched as he watched her fidget, and she glared back at him, daring him to give her a real smile despite the dark circles rimming his eyes. He didn't oblige, but somewhere in Rey's chest—in the place where she could always feel him—there was a tiny surge of warmth.
It had been over a year since Rey had seen Han, and the warm embrace he pulled her into across the threshold of his home did not disappoint. She savored the leather-whiskey-oil scent of his jacket and for the first time didn't wonder what her own father would have smelled of or if he'd ever held her close.
Ben lingered awkwardly behind her, offering Han a sharp nod as Chewie pushed his way into the mix, batting his old friend aside and sweeping Rey off her feet. She laughed and burrowed her hands into the thick ruff surrounding his neck.
"I missed you too," she promised, as he finally returned her to the ground. "No, Ben isn't cranky—he just hasn't slept in over a day cycle."
"Stars, kid," Han grumbled, stepping aside and ushering them inside. "In a hurry to get here, were you?"
Ben stiffened visibly as passed his father. "I think we both know who was in a hurry to get here," he said, raising a pointed eyebrow in Rey's direction.
She blushed deeply. "We only have another five days before we need to be back on Yavin 4," she protested. "Besides, the caves were cold."
"Well you've made it just in time," Han said, rubbing his palms together. "Leia won't be back from the morning session for an hour or so, and Chewie's just finished a batch of Wasaka berry pudding. If we hurry, we can have dessert for breakfast and she'll be none-the-wiser."
Ben scoffed and rolled his eyes while Rey elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "We'd love some!" she assured Han, firing a glare at her companion as the older Solo led them to the kitchen.
Although Ben's relationship with his parents had markedly improved over the previous four years, Rey could sense that the rift between them was still fresh in all of their minds. It both confused and irritated her. If her parents had suddenly been returned to her after all of their years apart, she would surely accept them with open arms.
Wouldn't she?
Han pulled out a chair for her at a simple wooden table that clearly wasn't designed to seat more than four. As he and Chewie puttered about the kitchen, Rey was given a chance to take in her surroundings for the first time.
The dwelling was roomy and bright, with two floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the park below. The walls were painted a fresh shade of cream, and the furniture was artfully arranged, though minimal. A politician's house, Rey thought absently, scanning the immaculate countertops and finding not a crumb in sight. Made for hosting dinner parties. She glanced over her shoulder in the entry room, where a large marble fireplace was framed by two elegant vases.
There was not a photograph to be found anywhere.
Disappointed at the lost opportunity to learn more about Ben's mysterious childhood, she returned her attention to her friend's present state. Although he was doing his best to appear alert, Rey could see the exhaustion in his flagging posture. Each brush of his eyelashes against his pale cheekbones was longer than the last and his head had begun to list forward adorably until his chin rested against the center of his chest. Rey couldn't keep the fond smile from her face.
The clatter of dishes startled Ben awake and his head shot up, one hand dropping to the saber at his side and his gaze darting to Rey before he remembered where he was. Rey flushed and turned away quickly, embarrassed to be caught staring. It was a habit that she had found herself falling into more and more recently, as if she were intent on greedily storing up every last expression, every twitch of his eyebrows or twist of his mouth, in her memory.
You don't look at me like I hold the galaxy in my hands, Colt had told her just a few short days ago. Is that what he had meant? Had he noticed the way that Ben's aquiline profile drew Rey's eyes inexorably, or the way that her throat bobbed when he laughed?
Such a stupid thing to say, Rey thought bitterly. As if it makes any difference whether I look at my best friend.
"Just like Chewie's grandma used to make," Han announced proudly, placing two bowls of vibrant purple pudding on the table with a clatter. Rey jolted to attention, pushing aside her hapless wonderings. "I didn't help of course. Force knows Leia and I can't cook worth shit."
Rey, ever hungry, dug in immediately, shoveling the still-warm concoction into her mouth and speaking around her second mouthful. "This is amazing!" she gushed, shooting a wide-eyed look of awe at Ben—whose expression was somewhere between why do you love my family so much and haven't I taught you table manners?—before turning to the chef himself and gesticulating wildly with her spoon. "Can you teach me how to make this? Master Luke doesn't believe in dessert but this—this is worth taking cleaning duties for."
If Wookies could have blushed, Chewie would have.
Breakfast was a brief affair. Rey had a second serving but still finished before anyone else. Ben was practically asleep in his chair after three bites and eventually excused himself to his childhood room with a brief nod at Han and a silent blink in Rey's direction. Her gaze followed his sloping shoulders to the door before returning to Han, who was watching her with a funny sort of glimmer in his eyes.
She licked her spoon clean and set it in her bowl, waiting for him to speak.
When he finally broke the silence, his voiced was gruffer than usual, which Rey knew meant he was trying to hide deep emotion. "He doing okay?"
"Yes, Mr. Han, sir."
Han's mouth quirked into a crooked grin at the old nickname. "Good. Force knows that boy needs looking after. He's been getting on with Luke?"
"As much as he ever has," Rey answered evasively, skirting the issue of Ben's continued tension with his uncle. Some wounds healed slowly, and others never did.
Chewie let out a soft rumble.
"Well, I suppose that's the most we could hope for," Han said, scrubbing at the stubble on his neck and chin. "Gee, kid, you know you must have grown a half a foot since I last saw you. What does Luke feed you Jedi types on that old rock of his?"
Rey grinned. "Whatever it is, it's better than rations."
Han's smile crumpled slightly before he regained his composure. "How have you been? Luke mentioned that those crystal caves can be mighty taxing on the mind. Still in one piece up there?" His bushy eyebrows jumped theatrically as he tapped a single finger to his own weathered temple.
Rey's smile faded into a look of intense focus that she trained on the grain of the wooden table. "It was…strange," she finally said. "I saw things I didn't expect to. People I didn't expect to."
"Your parents," Han filled in without pause, causing her head to jerk up in surprise. "Don't look so shocked, kid. You're not the only with a shitty pair."
When Rey looked askance at him, he continued. "Let's just say 'Solo' wasn't the family name. And I didn't leave Corellia with any intentions of going back. You and I have a fair bit in common, on that front."
"I—I never knew," Rey stammered. "I'm sorry."
Han barked out a laugh, his hand slapping down on the table. "Don't apologize! It's ancient history. Besides, Chewie here mothers me more than I can stand, anyhow." The Wookie let out a wuff of irritation. "My point is that I know how fickle your mind can be. One day you think you've got it figured out, and the next…well, it comes and goes."
Rey scanned Han's face from beneath her lashes. He looked serious—perhaps more serious than she'd ever seen him—and she sensed that this wasn't the lead up to one of his infamous jokes. "Yeah," she said cautiously. "I just…held onto hope for so long that they would come back for me. It wasn't until I met you—a-and Ben—that I realized they never would."
Han simply nodded, eyes trained on her face, as if he knew she had something more to say.
"If they'd loved me, they would have found me," she admitted, blinking back the tears she could feel welling up. "If they were alive. Because that's what you do for people you love. I just didn't realize that—before."
Han's callused hand came down gently on top of hers. "It's okay to miss them, kid," he said softly. "It's even okay to miss what could have been. Just know that we—Leia and Chewie and me—we, uh," he cleared his throat, retracting his hand and looking awkwardly to the side, where the Wookie still stood, "we think you're not so bad."
Rey let out a wet chuckle, dashing tears from her cheeks. If anyone could make a declaration of parental affection sound like pulling teeth, it was Han Solo. "I think you aren't so bad, either," she murmured. "Thanks for letting me be a part of all of this." She waved a hand aimlessly. "For taking me in. I can't imagine what my life would've been on Jakku if you hadn't—if you hadn't…"
"Found you," Han finished kindly, pulling a rumpled piece of fabric from his jacket and pressing it into her hand. "You know, kid," he continued, "it should be me who's thanking you. Do you really think my son ever would've come back to visit me in my old age if he hadn't had you to drag him along?"
Chewie let out a rumble of amusement.
Rey gratefully mopped up the last of her tears with Han's kerchief and settled her hands in her lap. "Maybe not," she admitted truthfully. "But I know he's missed you. Or missed what could have been."
A shadow passed over Han's face and he looked to the side again, suddenly seeming years older. "I know," he said quietly. "I know I've failed him in more ways than I can possibly count. If he can't stand to see me, it's because I never could seem to understand what he needed until it was too late."
"It's not too late," Rey answered him.
Han gazed at her inscrutably for a moment. "No," he said finally, slowly. "I suppose it's not."
And then the latch of the door clicked open and Leia was stepping into the room, draped in a pale gown and crowned in ornate braids that were flecked with more silver than Rey had remembered, and she allowed herself to be swept into a warm embrace that made her forget that perhaps, in some other world, they could have been far less fortunate.
It was nearly time for the evening meal when Ben staggered into the kitchen and slumped into the seat across from Rey, who was in the midst of a game of Sabacc with Han. Chewie had left earlier in the afternoon, claiming that he business to attend to and would be back for dinner.
Rey's eyes flickered away from her cards at Ben's entrance, taking silent note of the one tuft of dark, silky hair that stood up on the back of his head and the wrinkles on the side of his face where it had been pressed into the pillow. She absently put a card down and tried to think of something—anything—that wasn't the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw.
"I win again," Han said, dropping his hand of cards onto the table. "I thought you had me, kid, but that last move was a real dud."
Rey blinked once, her attention returning to her cards. She pressed them shamefacedly into the table, concealing the winning play that she had worked to prepare before Ben's arrival.
"You're teaching her to gamble?" Ben asked, his voice laced with sleep and disapproval.
"I taught you Sabacc when you were younger than her," Han protested. "It's never too early. I've been playing this game since before I could read."
"And look how you turned out," Ben grumbled, earning himself a sharp kick in the shin from Rey. He turned to her, lifting one eyebrow pointedly. "Do you have your kyber?"
Rey's mouth formed an "oh" of excitement for one comical moment before she scrambled to her feet and dove for her pack. "They're here," she said, digging the crystals from the pocket where she had stored them and holding them aloft. "Can I start building my saber, now?"
Ben chuckled softly. "Slow down," he admonished, beckoning her closer and gesturing for her to uncurl her fingers from around the two transparent stones so that he could look at them. "First you have to meditate over these. Make sure they answer to you." He shot a quick look at Han as if expecting a sarcastic quip, but returned his attention to Rey when none was forthcoming. "It's best to find a quiet space. Somewhere peaceful where you can feel the Force all around you. Normally I'd recommend the park but—" he grimaced at the windows, which perfectly framed the deluge that had started around noon, "now might not be the best time for that. You can use my old room for now."
Rey bounced on her toes, nodding rapidly in excitement.
"It's down the hall—last door on the right," he told her, more for Han's benefit than her own. They both knew she could've found the room easily enough thanks to her near-constant awareness of Ben's location, although she doubted that he realized she'd spent the last several hours cataloging the steady rise and fall of his chest. It was a soothing pattern—one that had put her to sleep on more than one occasion.
"Dinner is in a few hours," Han said, stacking and shuffling the Sabacc cards. "I'm cooking."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Ben asked skeptically.
Rey made her exit as Han's chest expanded with the beginnings of an indignant retort.
Even if Ben hadn't spent the last several hours in his old room, and even if he hadn't told her where to find it, Rey would have known. Sometimes people and places can resonate in the Force, Luke had told her once. We leave imprints in the places we frequent. The most talented of the old Jedi could use those imprints to track familiar Force signatures. It's a skill that takes many years of practice to develop.
As usual, her connection with Ben defied all logic. She could feel him in every corner of the house, but the last door on the right side of the hallway seemed to pulse with a presence as familiar as her own.
She let herself in tentatively, sliding the door shut quickly behind her and scanning the room. It was less spartan than Ben's quarters at the Jedi temple; in addition to a bed, desk, and wardrobe, it contained a stout bedside table and bookshelf packed with volumes of all sizes and colors. She took a moment to run a finger along the spines of the books, trying to pick out authors or titles that she recognized. Old Galactic Legends, The Darksaber, and Gray Force passed beneath her gaze before she scolded herself for snooping and turned her attention to the rest of the room.
Ben's pack was leaned against the foot of the small twin bed, which hadn't been made after his afternoon nap. The black sheets were still rumpled and bore the imprint of his large frame. On the desk was a holoprojector displaying the same picture that was tucked away in the back of Rey's desk drawer on Yavin 4, of a younger Ben sandwiched between his parents. Beside it was another projector, this one depicting an even smaller Ben—somewhere between the ages of four and six, Rey guessed—sitting astride Chewie's shoulders, his chubby fingers buried in the Wookie's fur. The image brought a soft smile to her lips.
The wall behind the desk was a mess of pinned up notes and paper pictures. WBW? read one. Outside of space and time? And another: Potentium vs. Unifying Force. Even as a child, Ben's handwriting had been a perfect procession of neatly slanted, evenly spaced letters. She could almost imagine him staying up into the early hours of the morning, a pen tucked behind one of his adorably protruding ears as he pored over one text after another, searching for answers to his many questions.
While Rey tinkered, Ben read. What would you have been if you hadn't been a Jedi? she had asked him once, trying to distract him during one of his seemingly-endless stretches in the library. He had looked at her over the edge of his book, a thoughtful crease appearing between his eyebrows. A scholar, he had answered finally. I've always wanted to study the nature of the universe.
She could remember it still, the feeling of wonder that had opened up inside her as he had set his book aside and regaled her with tales of star systems far away, of Force nebulas that defied all explanation, and wormholes into other worlds. Ben was brilliant, she had thought—more brilliant than a thousand suns. And he was willing to share it all with her.
Rey pushed the memory aside and bent to examine the pictures pinned up amongst the notes. Most of them were terribly faded with age, and the few that she could decipher seemed to be a mixture of star maps and spiral-armed galaxies. The first one to see them all, he had penned at the top of one such figure.
Rey grinned and drew away, opening and closing her palm around her kyber crystals in silent thought. Hesitantly, she toed off her boots and crawled into the middle of Ben's small bed, sitting cross-legged amongst the tangle of his sheets. They smelled of rain and pine and Ben, and she could practically feel the warmth of him in the air, drifting through the Force in a swirl of invisible color. The kyber crystals were a now-familiar weight in her hand, their angled edges pressing lines into her skin. Without thinking, she separated them—one in each fist, resting gently on her knees.
If the kyber caves had been a cacophony of noise and silence, her two crystals were a pleasant hum of reassurance. As she closed her eyes and focused deeply, their pull in the Force seemed to run tangent to her own, like flecks of iron aligning under the strength of a magnet. They felt light and responsive, as if eager to please.
The Jedi use kyber to build their lightsabers because it is a natural conduit of the Force, Luke had told her before her trip. It is a semi-sentient material that can become closely attuned to a specific Jedi through systematic meditation.
Systematic meditation? Rey had asked.
You must make clear your intentions to the kyber, he had explained haltingly, as if finding the correct words to describe the phenomenon was difficult. Meditating over kyber not only allows a Jedi to prepare the crystal for use in her weapon, but gives her an opportunity to consider what she hopes to achieve through her relationship with the Force. Who are you, Rey from nowhere? Why are you on this path? This is what the kyber must know.
Who am I? Rey wondered. Such an abstract question, posed in Luke's gravely baritone, and not one that she had spent overlong considering. Why am I on this path?
Her decision to remain at Luke's temple on Yavin 4 seemed a thousand years ago, though it had been only six. What had motivated her then? The deep, unshakeable certainty that she was needed there? The desperate, unspoken desire never to leave Ben Solo's side?
This place calls to me, she had told Han. If I leave, something terrible is going to happen.
What that something could have been, she had no idea. The feeling still loomed over her sometimes, on her worst days—the sense that all would inevitably crumble into darkness despite her best efforts to avert that unspeakable crisis. But it was different now; less a premonition than a quiet whisper, a warning of what could have been and what still could be. Had she joined the Jedi because she wanted to be one of them, or because the Force had called upon her to do right some unthinkable, yet undecided wrong?
Had it even been the Force calling to her?
The Jedi Order—is it like a family? she had asked Luke. She could still remember the bone deep ache of her loneliness, the knife-sharp pain of knowing that whatever future she had envisioned with Han and Chewie aboard the Falcon was not to pass.
Perhaps I never wanted this life, she mused, feeling slightly ridiculous as she projected the thoughts towards the kyber in her palms. What I wanted was to be loved—to find purpose and a place in the world where everything made sense and my questions could finally be answered. I wanted to be needed for once, rather than cast out in the desert waiting on people who would never return. I wanted to feel like my choices mattered somehow, as infinitely small as I am in this vast universe; I wanted to believe that I wasn't a nobody from nowhere. My whole life I had felt so alone, and it was as if someone had reached out across the galaxy, taken my hand, and said you're not.
She swallowed thickly past the lump of tears growing in her throat. Maybe it wasn't the Force calling me. Maybe it was Ben. Or maybe, to me, they are the same.
She could feel him so strongly there, in the room in which he'd grown up. His presence lingered into every atom of the space, whispering to her that she wasn't on her own any longer. For a few moments she let it run through her—that deep sense of measureless comfort. It came in waves of gratitude and safety, warming her. If I want anything it is to be wherever he is, she told the crystals softly. To keep him safe—to keep them all safe: Han and Chewie, Luke and Leia, Colt, Serai, Janneh, and all the rest. The other scavengers on Jakku: all those slave-children like me who were never swept up in all of this, never saved. I will return for them one day, not because it is my duty as a Jedi, but because they are part of me, each and every one.
The crystals seemed to glow a little brighter with each passing second as she poured the depth of her emotion into them. They flickered and sparked, but she almost didn't notice, so absorbed was she in the telling of her story. I am afraid of myself, sometimes, she admitted. Afraid of what I could become. I'm haunted by the visions I've seen, for fear that they are yet to pass. I wish I could know who I am, but I worry that I never will. That this thing inside of me will never have a name, but I'll wander, searching. Perhaps that is why I am on this path—because what is inside of me has always been there. Quiet, dormant, an afterthought. But now that it's awake, I need answers.
About myself.
About my place in all of this.
Rey wasn't sure if minutes passed or hours as she poured out her thoughts—an endless litany of confessions and hopes and dreams.
I want so many things that the Jedi have forbidden me. I don't understand why the code asks us to sacrifice so much.
There's an anger in me, so deep down beneath the skin that no one else can see it.
Sometimes I dream of an island that I've never seen, and I wonder if it's where this is all leading me.
I still feel guilty for leaving Jakku. What if my parents returned and I wasn't there? I've tried so hard to let them go, but even now the act of letting go makes me doubt myself. Is there strength in moving on, or shame in giving up? Will I ever be strong enough to stop asking myself these questions?
As she worked, she could feel the measured hum of her kyber growing louder, clearer. It dipped and swayed, buoying her when exhaustion dragged at her and singing softly when anxiety tinged her thoughts.
Ben Solo is the only person I've ever trusted completely, and I'm afraid of what I'd do if someone took him from me.
At long last, she found she had nothing left to say, and so she simply drifted alongside those two pinpricks of brilliant light.
When Rey finally opened her eyes, after a silence and a stillness that seemed to stretch unbreakably in either direction, she found that it was late evening.
I must be late for dinner! she realized abruptly, shoving the crystals into her pocket and scrambling up from the bed.
Without warning the whole world dipped and swayed around her, and she threw out an arm to avoid careening into the side of Ben's old desk. She blinked and her head spun as she tried to catch her balance. What was that?
The sound of a fist hammering on a door reached her as if from a distance, and she stood slowly, taking a few measured steps to reach for the handle just as it burst open.
Rey staggered backwards and would have fallen if Ben's hand hadn't shot out to grab her bicep, pulling her upright.
"Are you done?" he asked, his dark eyes searching her face carefully.
"Wh—yes," Rey sputtered. "What's with all the pounding and commotion?"
"I felt you, ah—I felt you falling," he admitted sheepishly, lifting his hand from her arm to rub the back of his neck. "Figured you might need some help."
Rey laughed. "I only stumbled getting up," she explained, trying to step around him to the door. His nearness was making her lightheaded, and she found it difficult to focus. One of her ankles caught on the back of the other and she staggered gracelessly towards the doorframe.
Ben caught her again, pulling her back into his chest with a hand on either of her shoulders. "Woah there," he said. "Steady."
The vibration of his chest against her back and the whisper of his breath over the exposed skin of her neck made Rey dizzy, and she felt her legs tremble with the effort to stay upright. "W-what's going on?" she whimpered, in a voice a little too petulant for her own liking.
"Rey, how long do you think you've been in here?" Ben asked, his voice a mix of concern and amusement.
"A few hours?" she guessed, reveling in the steady warmth of his presence. She felt the absurd desire to lean back into him.
His bark of laughter broke her out of her ridiculous fantasy. "Not even close, kid," he said, turning her gently towards him. "It's been two days."
Rey blinked up at him, owl-like. He looked just as he had when she'd last seen him, hair gently mussed from sleep, lips twitching with unresolved mirth.
"Two days?" she questioned. "You haven't changed your shirt."
Ben tipped his head back with laughter, exposing the smooth, pale column of his throat. Rey wanted to touch it.
"You're right," he finally said, when he had contained himself. Rey an odd swooping sensation in her stomach as she realized that his hands were still on her arms and he was wearing an expression that was at least halfway to a full smile. "I haven't. Because all of my clothes," he pointed at his pack, leaning against the foot of the bed, "are right there."
It took Rey a few seconds too long to process that information, but when she finally did, her face dropped. "Oh Force, Ben, I'm sorry!" she scrambled to explain, taking hold of his wrists. "I didn't mean to be in here so long, I must have completely lost track of time. You've probably been sleeping on the floor I'm so sor—"
And he was laughing again, this time a quiet chuckle that silenced Rey instantly.
"Not really a priority right now, sweetheart," he told her, unleashing a storm of butterflies in her stomach. Sweetheart, he had called her in the kyber caves. Sweetheart, he was calling her now. "Come on, you must be starving. Chewie and I cooked tonight so at least it'll be edible."
With an arm around her shoulders, Ben began guiding Rey towards the open door. Halfway there she found that her ears were ringing and her legs were no longer interested in holding her weight. She gave a muffled hmph as she slid towards the floor.
For a third time, the only thing separating her from an imminent introduction to the carpet was Ben's arm encircling her waist. He bent forward and slid his other arm behind her knees, scooping her off the floor with ease. "I've got you," he murmured into her hair, and for a moment she let the solid comfort of broad chest and his swaying footsteps lull her into a hazy state of half-consciousness.
Rey regained some semblance of awareness as they entered the kitchen, where the bright lights made her twist her face, child-like, into Ben's neck. The dark was reassuring
"Is she okay?" she heard Han's voice ask, rising with concern. "I told you we should have snapped her out of it earlier!"
"She's fine," Ben bit back, his arms tightening around Rey defensively. "Do you really think I would have let her continue if I thought she was in danger?"
Han fell silent immediately, and Rey felt the echo of a long-repeated argument in his easy acquiescence.
Ben's body shifted as he settled into a chair, and Rey prepared herself to be deposited into her own seat. Instead, Ben situated her cross-wise across his legs, continuing to support her with his left arm as his right reached out across the table. She blinked groggily as something approached her face, trying to separate her thoughts from the terrifying proximity of Ben's mouth to her temple.
"Drink," he said, his voice pitched low and quiet. "You're dehydrated. This will help with the dizziness."
The rim of a cup bumped her lips, and Rey responded automatically, opening her mouth as Ben tipped the glass back for her.
The first drops of water tasted of the sweetest nectar. Realizing her own terrible thirst, Rey reached desperately for the cup, intent on drawing it down to her and consuming every last drop.
"Easy," Ben mumbled, pulling the water away. "Not so fast, or you'll make yourself sick."
Grumbling unhappily, she allowed Ben to offer her slow sips of water until the pounding in her head faded and her light-headedness receded. She dared to open her eyes then, and scanned the kitchen.
Han and Leia were sitting across the table, watching her with rapt attention, while Chewie hovered near the stove. The look on Han's face was unnerving—a mixture of surprise and smug satisfaction. His eyes twinkled mysteriously, as if he was the cat who got the canary, privy to some important tidbit of information that Rey herself could not possibly imagine.
She scowled at him and asked "What are you looking at?"
Han's deep chuckle filled the room. "I guess you were right, kid," he said "She really is okay."
Ben's Force signature blazed with irritation—irritation on her behalf, it seemed, as he offered her more water and mumbled, "Leave her alone."
This time, Rey was certain, Han's peels of laughter could be heard down the street.
Dinner was a mostly quiet affair. Once he was sure that Rey could sit up under her own power, Ben gently transferred her to the chair on his right and commenced to casting vaguely anxious glances in her direction every time he thought she was distracted. It was an embarrassing state of affairs to say the least, worsened by the looks Han kept shooting at the two of them and the near constant flush working its way over Rey's face. Friends look out for each other, she reminded herself between bites of the delicious flatbread and hummus that Ben and Chewie had prepared.
It wasn't until after dinner, when Han and Leia had turned down Rey's offer to help with the dishes and Ben had heralded her protectively out of the kitchen, that he asked the question she had been expecting all along.
"Your kyber crystals…could I—may I see them?" he said tentatively.
Rey slid her hand into her pocket in answer and drew the crystals out, holding them loosely in her palm and slowly uncurling her fingers.
For a moment she and Ben stared, taking in their shift in color. The Force swirled around the pair, and in the rush of it all she could feel the crystals speaking, hear them whispering to her and spinning their ephemeral touch down the thin band of light that bound her to Ben. From his soft intake of breath, she knew he could hear them too.
Impossible, came the whisper in her mind, carrying with it the scent of rain and pine. They rarely spoke directly mind-to-mind, and Ben's utter lack of defense hinted at the true depth of his surprise. They know my name.
Because I told them who you are, Rey answered him, simply. I told them that you matter.
And when she finally mustered the courage to meet Ben's gaze, he was smiling at her with a warmth that made something catch in her chest: a realization of sorts.
"What?" Ben asked, his smile only broadening at her look of complete befuddlement.
Rey decided that she would do anything in the world if it made Ben Solo smile at her the way he was just then.
You have dimples, she told him softly, burying the other realization deep, and reluctantly closing the connection between their minds.
Still, the realization throbbed behind her breastbone like a hot ember, desperate to roll off her tongue in a burst of flame.
A/N: Okay, I am SO sorry. The last several months have been really hectic for me. Life has just been crazy (good, but crazy). My laptop was having some issues, so I couldn't write for a while. I had this chapter almost entirely written and ready to upload, and then my laptop broke AGAIN, plus I started school and also moved. I also became a little frustrated by the fact that I'd messed some plot things up/left stuff out/didn't plan as well as I wanted to, and so I felt like it wasn't coming out quite the way I hoped it would. But I've convinced myself that this just means it will need major edits at some point in the future (maybe after I finish it)! Anyways, I had to step away for awhile and regain my passion for the story, but I want to apologize for leaving you all hanging for so long. I'm not sure if anyone is even still following this story :( but if you are, thank you so much for bearing with me in this long hiatus.
Sorry that this chapter is a bit filler-ish. I'm not super pleased with how it turned out, but felt like I needed to settle for "not quite good enough" in order to move on with the story. I'm partway through the next chapter which will either be really long or split in half.
On a brighter note, take a look at the beautiful cover art that LyahFayew has provided for us! Isn't it spectacular? What an incredibly talented individual-thank you so much! And thank you as always to kittystargen3 for the beta (sorry it took me 3.5 months to post this after you gave me edits...)
Happy holidays to you all, and I hope to be back with another offering soon. Maybe a Christmas gift for those of you who celebrate?
-Aspen