Restoration of Light (Star Wars/Kylo Fanfic)

Chapter VII: Remember

"Be mindful of your thoughts, Anakin. They'll betray you." ~Obi-Wan Kenobi

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Part 1- Remember me 

One small, silver bolt on the sturdy grey wall in front of her had been her focal point for about the last ten minutes. The tray that held the glinting, sharp instruments had been mocking her, but she refused to give it the attention that it wanted. Gravity pulled a drop of sweat from her scalp, down her cheek, falling from her jawline to land on her collarbone. The pain in her shoulder had dulled to a throb from the sharp sting she felt when he had physicalized his temper earlier and grabbed her injury, then slammed his fist on the table next to her, ignited his light saber and stormed out of the room. That was the only time he had physically hurt her, and she managed to get by with minimal response to the pain, not enough for him to make real progress where it counted.

Azalea still hadn't given him anything, and could tell he was very near losing his patience. That was what intimidated her most. She hadn't seen him lash out, but there was a teaming store of bright red energy and rage sitting behind a thin veil that was just waiting to be torn.

Putting her focus back on the bolt, she switched her mind into a new defense mode, since he had come so close to breaking into the wall around her consciousness. The next time he tried to invade her mind he wouldn't be met with a wall, but rather a single, useless thought. The silver bolt. He could dig around it and scratch at it all he wanted, but as long as she kept all of her focus on nothing else, that was all he would find.

She was a bit nervous to employ this tactic since she hadn't practiced it nearly as much as the wall, but her fortress was worn down to almost nothing and the useless thought was the next best thing she had. The door slid open behind her and she noticed that there were two sets of footsteps, and the strange feeling of familiarity that she had yesterday, or a few hours ago-she didn't know witch- had returned. Soon enough, the black-cloaked figure pulled a metal chair up and sat down in front of her, while the chrome-covered Captain Phasma stood at attention by the tray.

"We're going to try something different," Azalea kept her focus on the wall, "I hope you don't mind." No answer.

The silver bolt.

"This could have been much simpler, but since you're so foolishly bent on keeping your thoughts subdued, Captain Phasma will be carrying on from here."

Azalea was ready for another mental attack; she didn't know how she would handle this. The captain turned on her heel and faced the tray on the table, lifted her helmet off and set it next to the tray. The silver bolt faded from Azalea's mind as she found herself staring at the back of a head of short, blonde hair that was hidden underneath the bulky helmet seconds ago.

She watched as Captain Phasma removed the armor on her hands, and her gloves as well. The Captain turned around to look at the back of Kylo Ren, giving Azalea the chance to see someone's face instead of staring into a cold mask for the first time since she had woken up in this dark place. A dim flicker of excitement filled her as she watched the hard eyes that watched Kylo Ren. The involuntary feeling puzzled her to no end.

"Sir, how would you like me to proceed?" Captain Phasma's words came out sounding firm and commanding, but so much warmer without the voice apparatus. Azalea tilted her head curiously and narrowed her eyes at the Captain, wondering why she seemed so familiar, and the still-masked figure took notice of her change in expression.

Suddenly, an outlandish spark of an idea invaded her mind. She shook her head slightly, pushing the thought away, not willing to acknowledge it. Then the spark became a flame. And then the flame grew, and all too quickly it was a fire that leapt, swirled and danced throughout her entire being. Confusion soon turned into denial, denial shifted into wonder, wonder into hope and hope into joy.