CHAPTER SUMMARY: Rey runs into trouble while scouting a route for a slave rescue
The forest is alive with sound— the call of birds flitting from tree to tree, the rustling of small creatures through the brush, insects chirping in a rising and falling song.
Rey stalks through the woods, the earth crunching under her boots, moist soil covered by of leaves, twigs, and all manner of flora. She surveys the scene, sharp and observant, filtering everything she sees through a mental checklist.
It's thick here. The trees are full and close together, the ground covered with brush and vines.
It's not ideal. On the one hand, they'll have more cover. On the other, it'll slow them down, make it easier for the slavers to catch up to them.
The target for this rescue is fifty, more if they can. Fifty people, tired and underfed, trekking through the forest at first light. They'll be scared, on edge, moving through unfamiliar surroundings.
It would be better if there more space between trees, less brush to push through. They'd move more quickly and in a larger pack, reduce the chance of someone getting separated. Rey can only hope that someone else finds a thinner area of the forest, anything more open than this. She's got four other scouts out here. Surely one of them will find a better route.
But she can't count on it. For all she knows, this is the best route. She needs to keep her focus, imagine the escape in her mind, what they need to watch out for. She reaches for the navigational device in her pouch, checking the distance to the rendezvous point.
Three and quarter miles to go. Close to halfway.
She tucks the device back in the pouch, looking up and around for something distinct, any sign that this part of the forest is different than where she started.
But there's nothing. It seems like the same mass of trees, so high and thick they blot out the sun, light trickling through in thin streams.
Rey sighs and steps forward, brushing past vines hanging from above. Suddenly, she slows, squinting.
She can't tell for sure, but it seems brighter ahead, much brighter, as if the forest abruptly ends. Maybe it opens into a field...?
She picks up her pace, pushing away greenery as she weaves between the trees. She hops over a log, eager to make out what she's seeing.
Her heart sinks as she gets closer, the view coming into focus.
That's an open space alright. But it's no field.
It's a ravine.
Her pace tapers to a trudge as she approaches the edge of the drop, at least twenty feet deep. She halts, sighing as she takes in the scene.
The ravine is wide, so wide that even the tallest tree in the forest couldn't bridge the gap. It stretches indefinitely to the left and to the mountain on the right. It's covered in green, vines crawling up steep sides, curling around roots jutting out of the earth. Under any other circumstance, she might think it was beautiful...
She shakes her head.
No. This won't work.
They can't take the rescues this way. In fact, depending on how far the ravine goes, they might have to rethink their strategy altogether...
Rey crosses her arms, mulling over this unpleasant development. She examines the ravine closely, reluctant to give up.
If it's as long as it appears to be, perhaps there's a bridge somewhere? Though if there is, it's the first place the slavers will go when they realize a chunk of their property's missing.
She purses her lips, thinking.
What about the mountain?
She twists to the right.
It's not far, a little over mile by the looks of it. There could be a path beside it or even a tunnel. It's worth a look.
Rey stalks back into the green, considering her options.
They aren't promising. Every route she imagines is too complicated, too dangerous... They need a straight shot, something quick.
She redirects to the mountain but moves less purposefully than before, accepting the reality— that it all depends on what the other scouts find. She begins observing the forest for its beauty rather than a potential escape route, noticing plants she's never seen, some brilliantly colored— a deep red, a bright yellow.
Before long, she drifts, her surroundings fading as her thoughts meander down a familiar path, on autopilot.
She just can't stop thinking about it. She can't pass an idle minute without going back to it, running through the conversation in her mind.
There's so much to process.
They talked for hours. Hours. Though the night and into the morning, only stopping because neither of them could keep their eyes open. They cried together, laughed together, worried together. They shared stories, fears, hopes, dreams.
Rey pictures the woman's face— bright eyes animated with emotion, sometimes soft and sad, other times sharp and focused.
It's strange to think she once thought of her as "the General." Now, she's Leia, not some imposing figure but a human being, just as vulnerable as she is strong.
Rey was surprised to discover just how vulnerable Leia really is... The woman always seems like steel in public, so confident and decisive, like she's never second-guessed herself a day in her life. But she has, of course. Leia doubts. She worries. She feels just as lost and lonely as Rey does sometimes, disconnected from everyone around her by lifetime of extremes— legendary victories offset by dark tragedies. She defeated the Empire but lost her home. She created a new order only to watch her son rip it all to shreds. And she carries it all alone, pondering it in her heart.
Leia needed this. She needed it just as much as Rey did, maybe more so. She needed to connect with someone she can't hide from, someone who knows what it's like to hope even in the most desperate situations, to love even through the bitterest differences.
At this, the conversation replays in Rey's mind, the one she keeps going back to. Out of hours of revelation, encouragement, and advice, this is what she remembers most, the thing that lingers.
"Do you think it's wrong?" Rey had asked. "To love him? To want to be with him, in spite of everything?" She tensed, bracing herself for an answer she didn't want to hear.
But Leia surprised her.
"Rey..." She'd scoffed softly. "I've spent a lifetime loving people I disagree with deeply on a personal and ideological level. It's not wrong." She shook her head. "You can't help who you love. And you can't help but be drawn to those you love, want be with them in spite of everything pulling you apart. In fact..." She leaned back. "Sometimes I wonder if opposites attract for a reason. Maybe it's the universe's way of finding balance."
"What do you mean?"
Leia looked down, not considering her answer. "It's the easiest thing, you know, to see the opposing side as the villain..." Her eyes were distant. "And when you see people like that, you don't engage with them. Why would you? Even just talking to them feels like a violation of your values. But..." She looked at Rey. "When you add love to the equation, things are different. You're willing to listen, try to understand the other's perspective— why they believe what they believe, why they do what they do. Then, as time passes, as love grows, what once seemed just wrong looks more... complicated." Leia smiled to herself. "That's when you really start to change."
Rey remembers how her heart fluttered at this, how it seemed to be exactly what she needed to hear.
But Leia sensed her emotions, her smile falling. "That's not to say love can mend all differences." She shook her head. I'm sorry to tell you it can't. Sometimes people don't want to change, and some differences are too deep to reconcile."
Rey's heart sunk.
"Rey..." Leia leaned in. "I'm sure you know how I happy I am to hear what you've told me today. I-" Her eyes crinkled. "I haven't felt this kind of hope in a long time. But..." She hesitated. "Based on everything I've heard, it's important that you and I prepare for the possibility that things may not turn out the way we want them to."
Rey slows her pace, the memory making her feel heavy. She brushes absently through vines, mulling over Leia's warning...
It's not what she hoped for. She assumed talking to Leia would help her see clearly, and it did, in some respects. But it didn't settle the one thing she needs to know most.
How is she supposed to handle this mess? She can't control how she feels. She wants Ben so badly, more every time she sees him, but how can she give into what she wants when he expects her to be something she's not? How can she let herself be vulnerable with him when he's still the Supreme Leader of the First Order?
Even Leia didn't have an answer to that.
"I can't tell you what to do, Rey." She shook her head. "I can only give you my perspective, and to be honest, I'm not in the best position to objective here."
"So what?" Rey challenged. "What if objectivity isn't what I need? What if what I really need to think intuitively, get advice from someone who really knows what it feels like to..." She paused. "To love him."
Leia softened.
"So, what you do? If you were in a situation like this?"
"I don't know," the older woman admitted quietly. "I hope I'd be open to listening, seeking middle ground, but I also hope I wouldn't compromise my values. And regardless of what choice I made, whether I gave into my feelings or not, I hope I'd be honest with myself about why I made that choice..." She raised an eyebrow.
"What?" Rey asked defensively.
"I think..." Leia drew out the words. "That you have very good reason for being wary of this relationship. But..." She pressed her lips together. "I also think, maybe..." Her face was careful. "There's another reason you're not giving in to what you feel? Perhaps one you're not entirely aware of...?"
Rey kept her gaze but wavered.
"Tell me." Leia dipped her chin. "Is this your first time being in love?"
Rey gave a short nod.
"And is it like you thought it would be?"
Rey looked down, suddenly finding it difficult to maintain eye contact. "It's..." She squirmed in her chair. "Different. More complicated, I guess."
"How?"
"It's just..." Rey struggled. "I never realized... I didn't expect..." She focused on the floor. "It would scare me."
"Why does it scare you?"
"Because." Rey snapped up. "I never thought my first love would be the Supreme Leader of the First Order."
"And if he weren't the Supreme Leader." Leia didn't skip a beat. "If he were just an average man, you wouldn't feel this way, wouldn't feel scared?"
Rey looked down again. "I... I don't know."
"Can you think of a reason why you might be...?" Leia pressed gently.
"I don't know," Rey mumbled. "I guess... I guess maybe... I'd still worry..."
Leia waited patiently.
"I might still worry about getting hurt," Rey finally whispered.
"Rey."
She looked up to be met by dark eyes brimming with compassion.
"I've been around for a few years now." Leia smiled. "And I've been in love more than once. I'm sorry to tell you I got hurt every time. In fact, I don't know a person who's fallen in love and not gotten hurt. Even in the strongest relationships I know, people still get hurt sometimes. It's just part of being in love."
Rey winced.
"But that's not the only part." Leia leaned in. "The thing that makes love so scary, that causes you to get hurt, is the exact same thing that makes it so precious, that bonds people together in the most meaningful way imaginable."
"What thing?" Rey whispered.
"Opening your heart." Leia's eyes crinkled. "Letting yourself be vulnerable, more vulnerable than you'll ever be."
Rey gulped.
"Rey..." Leia rested a hand on her knee. "I don't know if it's right for you to give in to what you feel for my son, but I do know that you shouldn't let fear make your choice for you."
Tears pricked at Rey's eyes.
"Being in love is a wonderful thing." Leia beamed. "And I want you to experience it one day, all of it, whether it's with my son or someone else."
The words echo in Rey's mind as she slows without realizing it, halting. She stands silently amidst the trees, surrounded by the bustling forest, yet she only sees Leia, hears the strength in her voice— such confidence and compassion.
Rey lingers in the memory, everything it made her feel— warm, terrified, ashamed, uncertain. As she does, she can't stop the thought from crossing her mind.
Sometimes she misses life on Jakku.
She never thought in a million years she'd think such a thing. She was so lonely there, so desperate for family, for love. All she ever wanted was to belong with someone.
But she never realized what that would feel like, all the complicated emotions, how hard it would be. Lately, she's imagined going back in time, coming face to face with her former self so she can urge her to enjoy her simple life while she can, embrace the monotony, the boredom, the comforting regularity.
Get up. Scavenge. Trade. Eat. Imagine. Sleep. Do it all again the next day. No galactic wars to worry about. No Force. No bond. No Ben. No grand destiny looming overhead, just survival, pure and simple.
Those were the days...
Rey sighs, returning to her surroundings— the forest, the trees, the vines, the brush at her feet. She looks up and around, trying to concentrate on the physical world to keep from incessantly analyzing the complex problems that have taken over her life.
The forest seems darker now. Rey looks up but can't see much through canopy of green.
Hopefully, it's just a few clouds and not a storm brewing. The storms here aren't as bad as they are on Dorajan, but they can get pretty nasty. Worse comes to worst, she'll hide in the mountain until it passes.
She steps forward, brushing past vines and stepping over logs rotting on the forest floor. She moves quickly, taking in the sights and sounds.
This forest is loud, in more ways than one. It's not just birds and insects constantly making noise but a visual overload, a variety of flora absolutely everywhere— covering the ground, crawling up tree trunks, hanging from branches. Most of it's green, but some are brilliantly colored, bright hues she never knew existed in nature.
There's a long, red flower shaped like a bell she keeps seeing on the vines. Then there are small clusters of yellow plants made of tiny, heart-shaped petals all over the ground. Then there's—
Whoa.
Rey slows, eyes fixed on the bottom of a tree just ahead.
Now that's something she's never seen before. It almost doesn't look real...
She approaches curiously, transfixed by the strange mass nestled between roots peaking from the earth.
Is it a flower? Or maybe a small bush?
Whatever it is, it's blue, a dark blue that seems to shimmer, creating a glossy haze all around it. Rey can't quite make out its shape until she kneels in front it.
She'd call it a flower but only because she doesn't know how else to describe it. It's dense with small petals tightly arranged in circular patterns the size of her fist. The stems are short, only rising a few inches from the ground, each one with five or six circles bunched tightly together with what looks like small, red berries in the middle. There are about eight clusters, though it's difficult to say for sure. The shimmering makes the petals blend, leaving only the berries with a clear shape.
Rey lifts a hand, extending slowly. She reaches for the blue mass, half expecting her fingers to fall through to the ground as if it were only a holo.
Her skin brushes the foliage, smooth and firmer than she expected. She grazes the clusters, moving from one circular pattern to another, feeling the cool kiss of petals against her skin. Her fingers drift to a trio of red berries bunched in one of the clusters. She barely touches one before she hears a soft pop.
Rey jumps, startled. The berry disappears, leaving nothing but a thin, yellow mist wafting up. She breathes it in, surprised to find a bitter undertone to the sweet smell.
Pop!
Now the second berry dissolves, releasing that same yellow mist.
Pop!
Now the third berry dissolves, a small cloud forming a few inches above the flower. Rey watches, searching for any trace of the berries, but there's nothing, as if they were never there at all.
Pop!
Yellow mist drifts from two berries at the center of another cluster.
Pop! Pop!
The two berries disappear, and Rey rises, starting to back away.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
More berries dissolve, creating an increasingly thicker cloud of yellow mist in their wake.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
Rey stumbles back, startled and entranced as every berry on the plant self-destructs, yellow mist rising from the blue shimmer. Once she gets some distance, she stops, watching the mist waft through the trees.
She steps to the side, following a vague instinct to get away from the strange, blue mass. After a few meters, she turns, refocusing on her destination. She glances up, trying to make out any storm clouds, but she can't see a thing through all the green.
She stalks forward, picking up her pace, determined not to get distracted. She brushes through a layer of vines and hops over a log but nearly loses her balance, right arm shooting out to steady herself.
She pauses a moment, regaining equilibrium, then continues carefully. As she brushes through vines, the forest starts to change. It's subtle at first but grows, the slightest shimmer, a glossy haze over everything. Colors and shapes begin to bleed, trees and vines squirming as though they were alive.
Rey knits her brow, confused. She tries to focus on something, anything— a flower, a leaf, the root of a tree— but she can't make out individual shapes. She squeezes her eyes shut and opens them, hoping to clear her vision.
Instead, it gets worse.
And it's not just her sight, either. The forest gets louder, the call of birds, once musical and faraway, like screeches next to her ear. The hum of insects sounds more like a roar, a constant droning in the back of her skull. She lunges but promptly trips, palms flying out as she crashes to the ground.
What is going on?
That's when it hits.
Uh oh...
Her heart quickens.
Is she... poisoned?
Rey pushes from the earth with trembling hands, fumbling for her pouch.
She needs to call for help. Now.
Suddenly, a flock of birds flies out of a tree overhead, an explosion of flapping and shrieking. She whips her hands to her ears, pressing hard to dull the sound, but it's no use. The shrieking only gets louder, like it's inside her mind.
Without thinking, she bursts forward at full speed, trying to outrun the noise. Her hands still cover her ears she runs through a shimmering mass, rushing like stars at lightspeed. Sharp edges scratch her arms as she flies through the forest, but she never slows.
Suddenly, she trips, her body flung helplessly down a slope. She tumbles for what feels like forever before rolling to a stop, bruised and trembling.
She gasps for air but can only manage shallow breaths. She hoists herself to her knees, desperately patting for her pouch.
There's nothing.
She looks around to search for it, but she's hit by a wave of nausea, everything a bleeding mass of color.
The next instant, a shrieking explosion splits through her skull, and she whips her hands to her ears. She collapses to the ground, curling into a ball, her legs tucked in her chest. Shimmering colors dance in waves, creating the sensation of movement, like she's on water. She grows queasy, a metallic taste creeping from the back her throat. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to focus on her breath, counting every inhale.
One.
She sucks in a breath.
Two.
She does it again.
Three.
She keeps going like this until she feels still, on solid ground. She keeps her eyes closed, limiting the sensory overload to just sound, the thunderous roar of millions of insects droning inside her, accented by screeching and thrashing. She can't feel her face, but she's sure she's crying, tears streaming down her cheeks. She tightens her arms around her legs, trying to focus on something, anything other than the ear-splitting agony.
It goes on forever. She lies there forever, curled in a ball, crying softly.
Then out of nowhere, the roar quiets. It doesn't disappear but withdraws, receding to the background. Something grips her shoulder, rolling her over.
"Rey!" A voice calls her name. "Rey!"
She opens her eyes, squinting.
A vague form hovers above, a rippling, black outline. "Rey, what's going on?!"
That sounds like Ben's voice. Or a phantom of Ben's voice. Maybe she's hallucinating...
"Rey, talk to me. What's wrong?"
A tannish blob that looks like a face descends. Two dark holes peer from above as something warm covers her cheeks.
Rey parts her lips, trying to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. "Are you real?" She manages.
"Yes, I'm real!"
That's definitely Ben. He's got that distinctive tone, an angry kind of concern.
Rey unfurls her legs, blinking, the tannish blob taking on Ben's features. "I-" She tries to concentrate on his face. "I think I'm poisoned."
"By what?" He backs away, the warmth at her cheek disappearing and moving to her forehead.
"A flower." She can make out his eyes now, clouded with concern. "A blue flower. It had red berries..."
"Did it seem hazy, not real, like a holo?" He strokes her hair back.
"It shimmered. Now everything shimmers. And it's loud, so, so loud..."
Ben softens, exhaling. "You're not poisoned." He pulls away, his outline wavy, blending with the colors. "You're drugged."
"How do you know?" She squints, starting to feel nauseous again.
"Because I know that plant. The First Order uses a derivative of it for interrogation."
Rey groans. "Of course you do." She rolls to her side, closing her eyes and drawing her knees into her chest.
"It's not harmful." She focuses on his voice. "It only affects the mind. It'll wear off. How many berries did you breathe in?"
"I'm not sure. Three... four... more maybe."
"Could be worse," he says wryly. "It probably won't last more than six hours."
"SIX HOURS!?" Rey slaps her hands over her ears, cringing at the shriek of her voice.
"Rey." She feels his hand on her head. "It won't be like this the whole time. The drug has two phases. The first'll wear off in an hour, then you'll feel more relaxed. It's why we use it for interrogation. It terrifies, then makes people compliant, loose-lipped. How long has it been since you breathed it in?"
"Forever."
He grunts.
"It only feels that way." His voice gets closer. "But it will end. You just have to get through the first part."
She whimpers.
"It's ok." His breath tickles her ear. His voice is soothing, the only thing that doesn't seem to roar. "You're alright. You just need to get somewhere safe and wait it out." He rolls her on her back, then reaches under her body. The moment he lifts up, her stomach flips, a metallic taste shooting up her throat.
She gags, holding back vomit.
"Stop," she croaks. "Please stop." She feels the earth beneath her. "I don't want to move. I want to be still."
"So, you're just going to stay here?"
"Yes." She rolls onto her side, curling in a ball.
"In the middle of nowhere?"
"Yes."
"For six hours?"
"Yes." She tenses, squeezing her legs as insects roar inside her mind.
"Those look like storm clouds."
She relaxes when she hears him, trying to concentrate on his voice.
"Are you going to lay out in the rain?"
"Wouldn't be the first time." She scrunches her face.
"Even if it's a thunderstorm?"
She hisses, in pain just at the idea of being in a storm right now. If birds and bugs are this loud, she can't even imagine what thunder would sound like...
"Rey..." He draws out her name. "You can't be out in a thunderstorm, especially not like this."
She whimpers, the prospect of being in motion no better than the prospect of being in a storm.
"Is there no one you can call for help?"
"I lost my pouch." She buries her face in her knees.
"Is it close?"
"Uh... Yes, I think." She winces at an eruption of shrieking.
"I'll be right back." He starts to rise.
"No!" She flies up, pushing to her hands and knees and crawling towards him, or at least where she thinks he is. "Don't go." She waves her arm, searching until she feels something warm, maybe his knee or thigh. "Please, don't go." Whatever it is, she rests her forehead on it, wrapping her arms around the warmth. "Please don't leave me." She clings to him. "It's better when you're here, not so loud. Maybe it's the bond, or something. Just don't go."
"Shhhhhh." His voice rolls in like a gentle wave. "I'm not going to leave you." He strokes her hair, a hand resting on her head. "But you can't stay here. The storm's going to start any minute now. You either need to call for help or let me take you somewhere safe."
"I don't want to move." She shakes her head, her forehead rubbing against him.
"Then I need to find your pouch."
"Don't go." She tightens her hold.
"Rey." His voice is gentle but with a hint of annoyance. "You have to move. I'm going to pick you up now, ok?"
"No." She shakes her head.
He slips his hand from her head and grips her arm wrapped around his leg. "I'm sorry, but you have to. Come on."
"No." She resists.
"Rey."
Suddenly, a skull-splitting crack rips through her and she could swear her ears start to bleed. She gasps, whipping her hands to them, fully expecting to feel sticky liquid running down her jaw.
"Time to go." He kneels beside her.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no." She squeezes her eyes shut, palms smashed into her ears.
"Yes." He grips her wrists, pulling her hands from her head. "I need you to hold on to me and focus on the sound of my heartbeat. Can you do that?"
She whimpers, shaking with soft sobs.
He pulls her upright and draws her into his chest, her ear just over his heart. "Do you hear that?"
She nods, melting into him.
"Good. Now focus on that and nothing else." He shifts her up and she wraps an arm around his neck, hardening in anticipation. She grits her teeth when he lifts her, a wave of nausea turning her stomach.
She's gonna to throw up on him; she just knows it...
They start forward, and she grips fabric as his chest, burying her face in his shoulder. She focuses on the rhythm of his heartbeat, trying to keep the nausea at bay. They bob up and down, but she just concentrates on that rhythm, sensing it more than she hears it.
A skull-splitting crack breaks her focus, and she cringes.
"It's alright." His voice resonates in his chest. "You're alright."
He moves quickly but time crawls, every second a labor of discomfort, nausea churning in her belly, sound assaulting her ears, the lightening worst of all. Every time it cracks, a searing pain shoots through head, raging in the confines of her skull. Her only comfort is him— his warmth, his heartbeat, his voice, low and soothing. She clings to him like she's holding on for dear life, like if she let go she'd be whipped in the brewing storm.
She twitches when a drop of liquid lands on her cheek. Soon, it's joined by another, then another, then another.
Drip, drip, drip.
She hears each raindrop, sometimes a splat, sometimes a blip, sometimes a tap.
Drip, drip, drip, drip.
They're slow at first— one here, another there— but they gradually pick up, individual drops merging into a chorus.
Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip.
CRACK!
The chorus crescendos to a roar, ten times louder than the insects, pounding, pounding relentlessly. She grips Ben tighter.
"You're alright." The roar recedes every time he speaks. "Hold on. Just a little longer."
She nods weakly, her face buried in his shoulder.
As the rain pounds, she starts to feel heavy, soaked to the brim with liquid. She's not sure how Ben's still carrying her. She must be a thousand kilos, absorbing every drop that hits her skin, filling her with more and more weight.
Suddenly, she dips, her stomach flipping, and all at once, the roar changes, taking on the quality of an echo, expansive and reverberating. She no longer feels the downpour, her skin soft and tender, sensitive to the cool air. She shivers and turns outward, cracking her eyes open.
An earthy wall, vibrant and squirming, rushes up, overhead, and behind, like she's in an X-wing spinning through the sky.
She heaves, squeezing her eyes shut.
Horrible idea. Horrible, horrible idea...
She determines to keep her eyes closed at all costs as she feels her body descend, laid gently on the ground. She rolls to her side, curling into a ball, shivering as she adjusts to the temperature. The rain drones on, a dome of sound roaring all around.
CRACK!
Rey flinches, whipping her palms to her ears.
It's the worst pain she's ever felt, the way the lightening rips through her skull, taking pieces of her with it. The roar of the rain is welcome by comparison, constant, predictable, something she can manage.
But the lightening?
It comes out of nowhere, a surprise attack she can't anticipate, and she waits in dread for it, wincing just when she thinks it might hit. She crushes her palms into her ears, trying to armor herself against it, but it's no use. Nothing stops it, nothing dulls it, nothing makes it better.
Where is Ben?
"Ben...?" She whimpers.
"I'm here." His voice is far away but gets closer. "It's ok. You're ok." A warm hand rests on her shoulder. "I'm going to move you upright. Are you ready?"
She nods.
He slips under her arms, drawing her up slowly, then settles back, pulling her into a cocoon of warmth.
As his arms wrap around her, she stops pressing her ears, her hands sliding tentatively away.
CRACK!
She jumps and lets out a cry.
"Shhhh." He lips tickle her ear. "It's alright. You're alright. This will part be over soon."
She concentrates on his voice, trying to believe him, all the while feeling weak and desperate, certain that this will never end, that she'll be like this forever...
"You'll make it through this, Rey," he tells her like he read her mind. "Plenty of people have. Some even do it intentionally."
She tries to scoff, but it comes out like a croak. "Why would anyone do this on purpose?"
"For recreation. Or religious reasons."
"Idiots..."
CRACK!
Rey hisses, then goes limp, shoulders heaving as tears stream down her cheeks. "I can't do this..." She shakes her head. "I just can't..."
"Yes, you can." He tightens his hold. "You're strong. You're a survivor. You've made it through worse than this."
She whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut.
"Shhhh." He rocks her gently. "You'll make it through. I'll help you. What can I do?"
"J-just talk to me."
"About what?"
"Anything," she gasps. "I don't care. Tell me about the idiots who do this on purpose."
"Ok." He rubs her arms, thinking. "Have you heard of the Narqois?"
Rey shakes her head.
"They're a sentient species, tree-dwellers."
She takes an inhale, focusing on him.
"Their home world is Narq in the Colonies. It's where the plant originates."
"What's it called?" She tenses, sure another crack will hit any second.
"It goes by several names."
She concentrates on his voice.
"I can't pronounce the word in the native language, but in Basic it's called shadow moss. It gets the name from its appearance, how it doesn't look real, like it's just a reflection of something else."
"That's what I thought, at first," she murmurs.
"The Narqois revere it as a gift from their ancestral gods."
She relaxes as he continues.
"They believe it was sent to them as a means to commune with the natural world."
Rey laughs weakly. "By commune, do they mean be assaulted by?"
"In a way, yes." He shifts behind her. "The idea is that it heightens your experience of nature, all of it— the violence, the harshness, but also the peace, the calm. This will get better, Rey; I promise. The second phase is much easier, pleasant even. People who do this for fun endure the first part just to get there."
"Why? What's so good about it?"
"A lot of things, depending on your perspective. Some say it's just relaxing, the absence of all worry and fear. Others say they feel like they're outside themselves, seeing their life from afar. Some even claim they achieve a higher state of being, an ability to reflect beyond the normal bounds of consciousness."
"Sounds... interesting." Rey squirms. "But not worth all this."
CRACK!
Rey jumps at the sound but is surprised to find it's not quite as painful as it was, less skull-splitting. "So..." She shifts a little. "Have you ever done this before?"
"Once." His answer is curt, that distinctive kind of curt like a gate closing shut.
"On purpose?" She tilts her head.
He doesn't respond right away. Seconds drag into a minute before he finally answers. "Not exactly."
"What does that mean?"
"It means..." He starts carefully. "That I didn't know what it was at the time. Snoke told me it would show me who I was, so I took it. Then he dropped me in a war zone."
"What!?" Rey jerks up. "That's terrible."
"I survived," he says dryly. "It wasn't easy, though. The effects are worse for Force sensitives. They sense more, so they feel more. It makes it hard to control Force power, to detect things you normally would."
"I've noticed." She grunts. Then, she purses her lips, realizing something. "Actually, this was the first time I didn't feel the bond before it happened."
"Mm," he hums but doesn't comment.
The rain roars outside, but it's less deafening than it was. Rey lets out an exhale, noticing she's starting to feel tingly, warm all over despite that she's soaked through. "So, what was the second phase like for you?" She asks.
He stiffens. "I don't remember."
She presses her lips together.
That was a lie.
Her Force senses may be overwhelmed, but she can still read him, feel that internal grating. Under any other circumstance, she would challenge him about it, but she's too exhausted right now. Instead, she wonders what he might be hiding, what about his experience of the so-called 'pleasant phase' makes him want to avoid it.
Maybe it does grant a greater ability to reflect. And maybe he came to some conclusions he didn't like...
Rey mulls on this for a minute before it occurs to her she can actually think now. The effects of the shadow moss must be shifting. Maybe she can open her eyes?
She lifts her lids cautiously.
Her vision is blurry at first but soon sharpens. She's relieved to find she can make out individual shapes. There's still a shimmer over everything but no movement, no squirming objects or bleeding colors. She looks around, taking in the scene.
They're in cave, in the mountain presumably. She's surprised to find it isn't as dark as she might expect, light pouring in from outside. Maybe the storm's starting to pass?
The ceiling is high, quite a few meters above, earthy walls curving into a dome. There's some vegetation on the ground, but it's mostly dirt, clumpy and soft by the looks of it. The opening is large, rain spraying several feet inside, but they're away from it, curled up in the back of the cave. She notices a pile of fabric not far, Ben's coat probably. She glances down to see his arms are bare.
"It's getting better, isn't it?" He interrupts her inspection.
She nods.
"Told you. The change happens fast, in a matter of minutes. Now you just need to relax." He rubs her arms a couple of times before bringing a hand to her forehead, tilting her against him. "Sit back and relax."
She does as he says, letting her muscles fall slack as she takes deep, intentional breaths.
A crack sounds outside, and Rey jumps but is relieved to hear it, to confirm she perceives it at a normal volume. She sighs, grateful to have her eyes and ears back, watching as the rain eases off, heavy downpour slowing to a light stream.
The cave shimmers, a gloss over everything, not nauseating but quite beautiful actually. It's like she can see gradients of texture and color she's never noticed before. She leans against Ben, enjoying the sights and sounds, the weight of his arms wrapped around her. She feels so warm, strangely warm. It's partially him but there's something else too, a glow beneath her skin. It's so calming, so peaceful.
And it's not just her body.
Her mind is at rest, detached. There's something about it that reminds her of the memory walk, when Ben put her on a loop to figure out how she froze the slavers in the forest. She feels split, a double consciousness, one experiencing and one observing.
The observing half notices the change, how she feels more content than she has in a long time. For once, her mind is not her enemy, constantly dogging her with fears and doubts, drawing her into a never-ending circle of self-analysis— questioning, challenging, shaming.
These past months have been hard. She hasn't quite felt like herself. She was once so confident, so decisive, but lately, she feels like she can't trust her own judgement. Everything's gotten so complicated...
She misses simplicity. She misses self-certainty. She misses quiet moments where she just sits and enjoys the present.
And she misses him.
Not just being with him but being with him like this. It's been so long since they've just enjoyed one another's company. It's her favorite thing about the bond when she thinks about it. Out of all the times it's brought them together, the best moments have been ones just like this, where they do something simple together, something beautifully human.
Sit by a fire. Watch the rain. Play a game. Share things.
She wishes the bond could be like that again. She wishes she could go back, before they ever knew they were in love, and just be together without worrying about their conflicting expectations, everything that tears them apart even as they grow closer.
"I miss this." Rey stiffens, surprised to hear her own voice.
Did she just say that out loud?
"Miss what?"
Apparently, she did. "I miss..." She trails off. She closes her eyes a moment, sinking into the warmth, his arms wrapped around her. "I miss when the bond used to be like this."
He doesn't say anything, but she senses his curiosity pique.
"I miss... moments like this. Simple moments. Just opportunities to be together, be at peace."
"You don't need the bond for that, Rey." He instantly moves in, lips at her ear. "You can have this whenever you want."
"After I join the First Order, you mean."
He sighs, his chest rising and falling at her back. She sees him in her mind— jaw set, eyes weary and annoyed.
But she's perfectly calm, like water so still it reflects everything above it, the image crisp and clear.
"Rey..." He loosens his arms, sitting up. "I don't care if you join the First Order. I mean..." He huffs. "I do. But I care about you more. I just want you. Don't you know that?"
"I do know that," she says quietly. "And I just want you. But wanting each other doesn't make the conflict go away. It doesn't erase our differences or expectations. Sometimes..." She sinks. "Sometimes it feels like nothing ever will, like we'll be like this forever— forever at odds, forever arguing, forever wanting the other to be something they're not, but forever..." She trails off as she gazes out of the opening, the rain just a glimmer now. "Bonded."
The cave grows quiet, the only sound a light sprinkle outside. Rey watches silently, her body warm, her mind at ease.
She should feel frustrated but she doesn't. It's nice to be like this, detached from the tension.
"So what?" Ben breaks the silence.
Rey knits her brow. She twists back to look at him.
"So what?" He shrugs. "So what if we're always at odds? That doesn't mean we can't be together. Trust me. My parents did it for years. All they ever did was fight."
Rey grunts, turning back to the opening. "So, what are you suggesting? That we just forget everything and be together?"
"That's exactly what I'm suggesting."
"Well, that's a sound basis for a relationship." Her lips twist wryly. "How would that even work?"
"We'll figure out." He leans back, nonchalant.
She scoffs softly, amused.
He can't be serious...
"Think about it, Rey." He brushes her hair aside, pressing a kiss by her ear. "We could have what we both want, right now." His lips travel to the nape of her neck. "We'll sort everything else out later. Just be with me. Forget about the First Order, the Resistance. Forget about all of it and be with me."
She closes her eyes, shaking her head at his foolishness. Her skin tingles as he trails kisses along her hairline, tickling soft skin by her ear. "Ben..." She sighs. "I can't do that. We can't do that."
"Why not? Wouldn't it be better than what we've been doing? What if this is what we're supposed to do? Just be together and let everything else fall into place?"
"I can't." She shakes her head. "I just can't."
"Why?"
"Because..." She swallows. "Because I'm afraid."
"Afraid of what?" He nuzzles her.
Rey closes her eyes, barely aware of the tear trickling down her cheek. "I-" She croaks. "I'm afraid you'll break my heart."
He freezes. "Rey..." He whispers in disbelief. "How do you think I could ever do that?" He tightens his arms around her.
"B-by..." Another tear drops. "By not changing. Or not changing enough."
He goes slack.
"You do realize that if we do this, that's where it will end, don't you? For both of us. We'll both end up heartbroken."
Ben doesn't move. For a moment, he's silent except for his breath.
Then, his arms fall from around her, the warmth of his chest pulling away.
Rey presses her palms to the earth, scooting forward and leaning over her legs tucked under her. She curls her fingers around her ankles, gripping gently.
Ben is crestfallen, weary with disappointment.
But she's not. She's the calm center of the storm— Open. Serene. It's like her mind has drifted from her body, floating to the heavens, ascending higher and higher until she can see it all stretched out before her, the path she must take, her destiny.
It's a strange, this sensation, welcome but strange. She's gotten so used to feeling blind, at a loss to what she should do, unable to tell right from wrong.
Now she's certain, watching everything from a bird's eye view. It's so clear, so obvious. How could she have missed it? A part of her must have always known, only now she can finally accept it.
It's going to hurt. It's going to hurt tremendously, worse than anything she's ever felt. It'll hurt him too. They'll both hurt.
They'll hurt. They'll yearn. They'll agonize. They'll mourn. They'll feel broken, betrayed, angry.
And they'll grow. They'll cherish. They'll admire. They'll care for each other. They'll open their hearts. They'll listen. They'll compromise.
They'll change.
This is it. This is how it has to happen. There's no other way.
She has to experience it. They both do— the agony and the ecstasy. Otherwise they can't can't achieve their destiny, the reason the bond exists, what the Force has in store for them.
It's time to let go.
Rey takes a deep breath, slow and purposeful. When she lets it out, she imagines all her fears and reservations going with, drifting out of the cave and into the sky.
She lifts up, hands slipping from her ankles. She gazes at the forest outside, shimmering with a coat of rain, soft and peaceful.
Then she shifts, turning to Ben.
He's slumped on the wall, boots planted firmly, legs spread wide in front of him. He glances up, guarded.
Rey sits back on her calves, hands resting on her lap. First, she just studies him, the angles of his face, his dark hair, still wet from the rain, a mass of damp curls. His eyes are so expressive, bright in spite of their blackness, flickering with everything he feels— frustration, sadness, longing.
She scoots between his legs, and he sits up, brows drawing together.
Rey stares evenly.
Then, she lifts a hand, stroking back tufts of hair sticking to his forehead. She drifts to his face, stroking his cheek with a thumb.
Finally, she leans in, pressing her lips softly to his. They linger, long and slow, her fingers curling behind his neck. She pulls away, only an inch, just enough to look at him.
He looks baffled, eyes wide, trying to read her. Soon, they grow soft, the realization registering, what she means.
She tilts her head, leaning in for another kiss.
He returns it this time, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. One kiss blends to two, then three...
The next second, she's on top of him, straddling him, taking him with greedy kisses as she wraps her arms around him.
He doesn't skip a beat, grabbing her hips and pulling down. They consume one another, her fingers weaving through his hair, his hands traveling over her backside, gripping flesh just under it. They lose themselves, lips soft and wet, damp bodies pressed close.
Suddenly, he pulls back, panting. His eyes are burning but uncertain, like he just realized something.
"What?" She cups his cheek. They're still close, faces only an inch apart.
"Have you—" He catches his breath. "Ever noticed that the bond seems to end just when we're most... intimate?"
She knits her brow. It takes her a moment before she catches his meaning.
When she does, she nods. "I think..." She draws out the words. "The bond ends when it accomplishes its purpose." She pauses a moment. "You're the one who says this is its purpose. So maybe as long as we're doing what it wants...?" She raises an eyebrow.
He tilts his chin up, considering. Then, his lips curl.
"Let's find out."
He lunges, flipping her on the ground and pinning her arms above her head. He's all over her, covering her with kisses, first her lips, then her jaw, then her neck. "This..." He travels down. "Is a very..." He barely finds the time to speak between kisses. "Very important experiment."
"Is that right?" Rey giggles.
"Yes." He captures her lips, still pinning her wrists. "We have to explore the bond, test its limits." His hands slide down her arms. "It would be remiss of us not to."
"Well then." She wraps her legs around him. "I would hate to be remiss."
He pulls up. "Atta girl." He winks.
She barely rolls her eyes before he takes her again, opening his mouth into hers. She grips dark curls, writhing under him, her body pressed into his.
His hands travel along soft curves, in at the waist, out at the hip. He slips an arm under her, lifting her from the ground, and she clings to him, arms and legs wrapped around him.
Their lips never part as they grasp and moan, lust and love colliding, one magnifying the other. Their hands, their lips, their tongues all communicate, telling the stories of a thousand sleepless nights, the scenarios they've played in their minds as they've lied awake, dreaming about exactly this.
Rey's heart skips a beat when a warm hand slips under her shirt, sliding over soft skin at her back. He lingers at first, gripping warm flesh, then travels up, taking the fabric with him, exposing her stomach, her ribs, her—
"Wait!"
He immediately stops, his hand sliding down as he lays her on the ground.
She sits up, backing away a few inches. She looks down and not at him, struggling to catch her breath. "I'm sorry." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I- I just—"
"It's ok."
She glances up and is met by dark eyes softened with concern.
They stare silently, breath slowing as the heat cools, passion transforming to something else, something more serene but just as powerful.
He lifts a hand, reaching for her face.
She gasps, sensing it before it happens. "No!"
He disappears before his fingers brush her skin, gone like so many times before.
"Not yet..." She gapes at the space where he used to be.
The cave is all but silent— no rain, no thunder, only quiet chirping outside.
Rey sits numbly, like she's hoping he'll reappear. After a minute, she falls back, lying on the ground and rolling to the cave opening, knees curling to her chest.
It's pretty outside, the world glossed in a shimmer, damp and glittering from rain. The sun's out now, bathing the trees in soft, yellow rays, making colors more vibrant.
Rey relaxes, gazing at the beauty, strangely calm in spite of everything.
She lies silently for who knows how long. She doesn't sense the time.
The day's events replay in her mind.
Scouting. The ravine. Shadow moss. The assault of sight and sound. Him. Taking care of her. Comforting her.
Everything they talked about. Everything she discovered. Letting go, kissing him, embracing him, every expression of pleasure and love.
Stopping him. His eyes, soft and understanding. The bond taking him away.
She replays it all in her mind, once, twice, three times.
She doesn't analyze it. She just observes, reliving the experiences, the emotions. All the while she feels at peace, confident that everything played out exactly the way it was supposed to.
Finally, she shifts, uncurling her legs and pushing up. She rises slowly, looking around, taking in the details of the cave.
She wants to remember this place, this moment...
Soon, she steps to the opening, dipping down and out. She looks up the mountainside, aware she's not quite sure where she is. It'll take her a while to find her way, and her team will be worried sick, wondering about her.
But she's not worried.
It's ok. It's all ok. She's right where she needs to be, doing exactly what she needs to do.
She takes a deep breath and sighs it out, relaxing.
Then, she walks into the forest, disappearing into the green.
NOTE: The next update will be December 8th. Thank you for your patience!