[ this bond is a living thing, breathing between them as they draw nearer, even when it has not expanded to pull them into a private moment. it is for that reason that she can feel his anger like a wildfire, brighter and hotter the closer it burns.
but it's without context. she has the impressions, the vague shape of his rage without any concept of what stoked it.
concern ripples through her expression in the moment that neither of them speaks. she searches his expression for some answer, but holds her ground, maintaining the distance between them rather than following her impulse to draw nearer. though she isn't afraid β he would not turn against her, surely, not given what thrawn had indicated, not given their last conversation β she has enough self preservation not to draw nearer when she can feel that.
and she's not going to fuck around with it either. she asks plainly, ] What happened?
[He doesn't answer right away, though really its for lack of an answer. This surely should not have bothered him as much as it did. It would mean that he'd let her too close in the first place -- but he'd wanted that, hadn't he? Just not like this.
His grip on his lightsaber tightens. The Dark swirls about him, inky and corrupting. What happened? As if she didn't already know.]
I was blind, not to have seen.
[It comes out on a forced exhale, like it hurts to say, but also as if releasing a great burden. He swallows it down and forces himself to keep talking. He's not going to fuck around either -- not now.]
He came to me, not long after you. Finn. Demanding my cooperation, in the same way Commander Dameron had.
[Not FN-2187. FN-2187 would not have had the gumption to look him in the eyes like that. He knows the difference.]
He also said that you had seen something. In me.
[This thumb presses into the hilt of his lightsaber, hard enough to turn the skin under his fingernail white. The only thing keeping him from activating it and rushing is how much he is seething.]
[ the dark side comes for him, but it reaches her through the bond. it feels not unlike quicksand, swirling and shifting around her feet until it slides atop them and settles around her ankles. it's a slow, steadily consuming thing, much like the swelling confusion and dread that climbs up the back of her throat as he continues.
there's a thinly restrained fury in his voice, in how he holds himself, that puts her on her guard even though she hears no crime to speak of in what he relays. nothing that gives context to his feelings. in fact, for a brief instant, she almost β smiles? he has called finn by his name β but it fades back into a look of chagrin before it fully forms.
so all she can do is give him the truth. ]
Nothing.
[ it's vehement and immediate, and she searches his face with such wild confusion that there's simply no mistaking it for deception. ]
What are you talking about?
[ because she can't imagine. she's surprised, then, to find that her jaw is clenched, tight with some emotion that does not belong to her. it loosens with a quick glance down of recognition, but then her eyes catch the glint of something else in his hand.
she can feel him squeezing it, sense his intent. he's one wrong word from charging. fear rises in her like a fever, sudden and disorienting. she can feel her gut tighten with the urge to defend herself already. a flood of adrenaline. she had told no one where she had gone, where to find her. she had trusted him. she had found somewhere isolated, somewhere private, andβ
no, that's the dark. she dismisses its influence with a slight tick of her chin. if it dictates them both, there's no telling where they will end up here. she draws a deep breath, centering herself, and finds his gaze. it hurts to hold it because she can see hatred there. for her, yes. there's no doubt now, even if she still can't grasp why. it's not as though finn had poisoned him against her. ]
Put that away. [ the cadence of her voice slows to something serene and certain. she won't let this escalate. ] I'm not going to fight you.
[Something compels him to pace, urges him toward calm. He doesn't think to resist it -- he wants this to go away, as much as he wants to embrace it. His jaw remains clenched, braced against his own shaking grip. He doesn't even think to look for deception in her answer -- he's too blinded by his own pain, incapable of seeing truth beyond it. Just as he's incapable of seeing how Rey's light draws him in.
The lightsaber stays in his hand. Its a security blanket, so much so that he gestures at her with it, in spite of the fact that its still deactivated.]
You told him, about the bridge.
[Its obvious then how shaken he is by the corruption that bleeds into him. It comes out like an earthquake building when he relays it. I trusted you isn't spoken aloud, but it doesn't need to be. He trusted her, and it was a mistake. Even after everything he'd told her, about the dark and the light --]
[ the words come out with patient firmness, even as he points the lightsaber in her direction. she didn't come here to fight him β not like this, at least. β and she didn't tell finn anything about this thing between them. she couldn't possibly.
she reaches into her sleeve, slowly, cautiously, and pulls her lightsaber out. something in her screams for her to hold onto it, but that only makes her throw more certain and more forceful. it clatters onto the uneven rocks and dirt and mulch between them.
it's a symbolic gesture only, of course. with the force, she could pull it back into her grip easily. but it's, she hopes, enough to communicate that she really won't give him the fight he so sorely wants, one she would not want to win.
the rest is β¦ more complicated. it seems so obvious. she had never claimed that she would stop trying to turn him, of course, so she can't fully comprehend why he's so hurt by it. why he's so hurt by her speaking to finn. but she can see that he is, and for that reason alone, it's worth delicacy.
of course she wants him to turn. doesn't he want the same? wouldn't it be easier for both of them, to be on the same side, and not opposed? i don't know that ben knows what ben wants. how many times has she come back to that same statement now? she can hardly count.
it helps her now, though, to think that it's not about want β he's just reacting, not unlike a cornered animal. overwhelmed. panicked.
so she doesn't argue the point, that she wants him to turn. it would only feed whatever paranoia this is, give him some reason to lash out. she won't lie to him β even if she tried, she's not sure she could. they haven't lied to each other since this started. if they had, it wouldn't have been worth preserving. ]
All I've tried to do is be close to you. [ she grabs onto that because, well, it's only recently that she had regained any sense of certainty that he wanted that too. that he might reach for it. ] Why push me away now? What are you afraid of?
[His pacing starts to slow before she offers her reply. Now that he's gotten it out, he can feel some of the weight lifting. She wants to turn him. He won't. He won't. He repeats it, over and over again in his head until his feet stop moving and she throws her lightsaber aside. His head jerks like a magnet to follow it.
He heaves angrily. Its an insult, that she won't fight him -- or, it would have been, under different circumstances. But his head jerks back to her suspiciously before long, like he does not trust her intentions. And even then, she voices them, plain as day.
She wanted to be close to him. There's a moment where he almost believes it, and the darkness in his eyes clears some. But no -- not close to him. Close to Ben, that name she keeps calling him, to the shadow of him that she doesn't even know. Some nebulous person that's long dead.]
No. You want to be close to Ben Solo.
[She's trying to manipulate him, just like everyone else is. Except her intent is perhaps even more sinister than everyone else's. She wants to drag him back to the Light, so it will be impossible for him to resist judgement when it came.
He's just another tool. What he wants doesn't matter. It never has, to anyone.
His non-dominant hand reaches out to call the saber she's discarded into it, and he triggers the activation of both blades, such that they cross and crackle against one another, aimed downward so she can see what he's done. He feels better, like this -- more in control of the situation, and of himself.
She wouldn't resist a fight with her life in danger.]
[ the thing about taking feral animals in is that sooner or later they're going to bite you. rey's eyes flash to the movement of her saber hilt, and though she starts to lift her hand to react, she's not fast enough. not by a long shot, stunned as she is that he'd gone for it.
well. the force would have been able to bring it back to her hand, had he not taken it for himself. that she hadn't seen that coming and that he immediately ignites it prove the first signs that maybe she's made a questionable decision here. when the snap-hiss sounds, she flinches slightly, a jump that betrays that crossing that line changes things, somehow.
she swallows the lump in her throat, but it goes nowhere.
the heat in her face and arms is surely not actually the pulsing of the lightsabers, but it sure feels like it. her heart and stomach feel like lead in her gut. no. it's not the ozone burning. it's her fear. creeping up, consuming her.
real and present fear for her life sends any puzzled attempt to sift through the difference between ben solo and kylo ren out of her thoughts along with any concern that he's divorcing himself of the forgotten name. she can feel her muscles tightening like they're trying to walk her back towards the cave, but she can't bring herself to move. is that bravery or stupidity? or just more fear? ]
To you.
[ she says it again. what a stupid thing to dig her heels in on, she thinks as soon as it's out, but it's what she's got. but it gives her voice back to her, and she draws in a hurried breath. it sounds an awful lot like she's rushing the words out now, like she needs to get them out before he cuts her off in a bad way. time is short if she wants to avert a fight that she officially might not win. that's what she gets for telling poe she was the only one who'd successfully beaten him. stupid. ]
I can't force you to turn. I know that. [ she can feel tears pricking her eyes even as she says it aloud. urahara was right, that bastard. and this is, perhaps, punishment for her arrogance. but back in the empire of the crashing wave, and when she'd spoken to thrawn, she'd thoughtβ maybe, he'd started to want to. maybe. it strikes her then, and before she can think to herself hey maybe don't say that out loud, she's saying it aloud. ] That's what really scares you.
[ that he has a reason to want to. that ben solo is a part of him, still, one that can't be buried. ]
[Its a scoff of disgust. He can see the tears pricking her eyes and can feel the pressure behind his own. Its -- not as satisfying as he had hoped. In fact, its the opposite. The righteous bite of his fury feels...less, somehow. It brings to bare how much how much he'd absorbed from her and vice versa. How much the bond was really effecting them both.
And it slides over his skin again like oil, this creeping feeling of dread -- that he'd gone too far, let her get too close when he wasn't looking. That he was too invested in her presence, in her skillset, in everything about her. It seemed like such a natural thing, two years ago. A need for an apprentice, to carry on Snoke's teachings. To pass on what he'd learned.
This is different. Why is it different? When did it become different? Why did neither Snoke nor Luke possess this haunting spectre hounding them from the other side? The conflict continues to swirl.]
No. I know its too late.
[That's what he'd said to his father. That's what he had felt from Luke, that night he'd come to kill him. He pulls on those memories now, even as it makes his face go numb, as he blinks hard to hold Rey's tears back. It had taken a long time to understand, but he gets it now. By nature, this would always happen. He would be the one to pull the truth of things to the surface, no matter the cost, at all times. And his willingness to do that made him a monster. That's what history had told him.
That's what all the people he'd ever trusted or believed in had told him. And they were right.]
I know what lies at the end of that road.
[Death. Pain. Betrayal. Consequences. Why did she want to bring him there so badly?]
[ there's no thought behind the question. it comes out too quickly for that. but no, he's not talking about some vision of the future passed to him by the force; he's talking about his fear, and taking it for real. he could not know what lay down a road he refused to even look down; if he did, he might see her there.
some part of her wonders, briefly, if he's right. if this is an impossibility. if there was never a chance of them being able to trust each other. but β¦ he hasn't come at her yet. he has both of their weapons and he's only standing there, holding onto them the way a child might hold onto a doll. the way she had done. he's not sure of anything; he's just a frightened child.
she draws a breath, steadying herself with that thought. ]
If you really believe that it's too late for you, then you have nothing to fear from me. [ tears ebbing, she nods to him as though to point out that, considering she's unarmed and out here alone against kylo ren with two lightsabers, he sure looks awfully frightened of someone who has no power over him. ] I'm not your enemy. You know that.
[Her calm is impossible to ignore. It angers some distant part of him, but in equal measure, he feels -- some clarity of mind, knowing that it is there.
I'm not your enemy. You know that.
Did he?
Me. Next time, you will have me.
All I've tried to do is be closer to you. To Ben Solo. To you.
He felt her fear. But even feeling that fear, she had not raised her hand. She had more control than him -- a desert scavenger, and Snoke's apprentice. How was that possible?
Thinking about it, tugged in both directions makes something in his blood seize. It hurts so intensely. He had to silence it. He had to silence her--
Abruptly, he raises his arms to deactivate both sabers and pushes them to either side of himself with a furious shout, far out of reach. And just like that, weaponless and equal again. The evening of the scales, as it turns out, also seems to bleed some of the tension out of him. But he still looks not unlike a deer caught in headlights, frozen and uncertain what to do with himself now that they've found this ground between them.
It didn't feel right, raising a weapon to her like that. But surrendering, that doesn't feel right either. What is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to move beyond this?]
[ something loosens in her chest. relief? some part of her had wondered, distantly, if she were being a fool. it was not an easy thing to hold onto her certainty, to her calm. she exhales like she's been holding her breath for some time, worn by the strain of it.
and him, too. all that rage, and he hadn'tβ she is not without understanding of how hard even that kind of calm was to reach for him. the bond, maybe, but she wants to give him more credit than that. she wants to β¦ hope.
he hates her for that, she realizes. that's what this was.
she's not sure what question to ask; why it had hurt him that she had told finn even that much, where he supposed the line was supposed to be, a half dozen others. so none of them come out.
the lightsabers are forgotten as she takes a slow step towards him, and then another. she's not exactly running to close the distance, but she's sure that it's what she wants to do. ]
[She steps closer and he stays rooted to the spot. He itches to call the sabers back in his hands -- after all, he had suggested this because he'd felt the tension building (he's simply waited too long). To stop himself, he curls them into fists at his sides and tries to focus on his breathing. Its a startling realization, to feel the poison of the dark so separately from himself. For ages, they had moved seamlessly, as if it were a very part of the oxygen he inhaled. But, with her presence and intrusion, it just felt like...
Suffocation. Exhaustion. Pain. Adrenaline, with nowhere for it to go. He can only imagine this is what the Dark side feels like, to those not inclined to it naturally.
What had she done to him? Why had the Force thrust this upon them?
Kylo Ren's eyes drop, bewildered both at his sudden self-reflection and the distant sound of ringing in his skull. The disassociation with the world around him starts to set in.
She's right, of course -- he hates that hope she has, and how he could never possess it himself. That spark that his mother kept close, she'd never managed to share it with him properly, but Rey had somehow picked it up in his stead.]
[ she doesn't stop until she reaches him, and then she raises her hands to settle them on his shoulders. something has cracked open in her chest and is screaming. pain and misery buried under that hate and anger. these feelings belong to him, not to her, she realizes, but she aches for him. anyone else and she would be embracing them, but she has the good sense to know that even this much contact is a stretch where he is concerned.
in a soothing gesture, one that gives her time to work through what she's going to say and calm herself down from the panic and adrenaline that still close up her throat, rey runs her hands down his arms. she keeps a firm grip until his elbows, then loosens up until she reaches his hands.
emptied of their weapons, she takes his hands in hers. at first, wrapped around his fists, but she sort of worms his fingers between his grip to loosen them. ]
Help me understand what it is about what Finn said that upset you.
[He feels her moving, knows that she is coming, but mentally refrains from acknowledging it it until her hands are upon him. His eyes snap to his right arm, where her hand has started to move down his own, and then back to her in a warning glance. Its a bold move -- he has the advantage where size is concerned, and just a moment prior, he'd been armed and ready to charge.
Kylo tries to unpack the gesture as it moves, leaving it to do its job until they reach his fists. When he feels her try to worm her hands inside, it is a reflex to clench them harder, until his nails begin to dig little half-moons into his own palms. That helps too -- the sharpness brings him back to focus.
And while he is distracted with keeping that strange distance he feels like he needs, like shadow shrinking from the light coming to intrude upon it, he digests her question. Could he even answer that? Did he have an answer? She'd broken his trust -- hadn't she? Or had he simply imagined that, when he realized he had made the subconscious choice to trust her at all?
Help me understand implies that she wants him to explain to her, why Finn claiming that Rey had hope that he could do good in the world had upset him so much. But he cannot even explain to himself -- doesn't have the words, the sensitivity, or the awareness. So he is stuck, staring like he is on the other side of a glass wall.]
[ he's shutting her out. his fists twitch and clench like they're trying to force her away, and he won't say anything. she can't do anything with that. standing there unarmed with him ready to charge her with two lightsabers, that should have been the height of comparable powerlessness, but somehow the steel wall she comes up against here is worse.
she can't do anything if he won't even speak. ]
Please don't shut me out.
[ there's something raw about the way she makes that plea. more vulnerable than she had been before. a fight is a fight, but this is about a feeling. her fingers no longer try to dig at his hands, but instead rest beneath his fists, palms open in offering and brushing his knuckles as if waiting for him to accept. ]
[Its a plea -- he knows it when he hears it, but he doesn't understand it on the surface. She doesn't want to feel alone, that's what she claims. But how many times had he heard something of their relationship with one another conveyed by another person?
She wasn't alone. She was surrounded. He was alone -- and he liked it that way. Or so he thought. These days, it hurts more.]
I couldn't.
[Even if he wanted to. And he does want to -- some part of him still wants to retreat. Some part of him might always want to retreat. But he'd never be able to shut her out entirely, unless he found away to close this door wedged open between them.
And that is why all of this hurts so badly. He is at odds with himself again, and being torn apart. Was this what Darth Vader might have felt, had he not been killed? Was this just -- going to be the way it was, for the rest of his life?]
[ Couldn't implies two things: first, that he wants to, and second that he has tried. That leaves a cut. He may not have come for her with a lightsaber but in some ways this has been worse. A stark reminder of how much lies between them and how painful bridging that gap will be. It will not be the last time they hurt each other.
She thinks of Keith, and how he had the sense to admit he was bad at being with Lance. If that's the alternative she can't do it, but still she thinks maybe it's the wiser choice. Ben obviously believed as much.
He's still afraid of her. That should feel like a win because it means she is right and he does believe on some level that he can return down that path with her. But it doesn't feel like that. There's no vindication there. Just a wound splitting her chest open, making it hard to breathe.
She can't blame him for it, can she? They're both afraid of being pulled across by the other. Armed to the teeth and trying to maintain control without fully giving of themselves. That's the crack in the engine.
One of them will have to give first. She'd done it just now, throwing away her lightsaber, and it had terrified her and he could have killed her but also... look at him now. Not drained of his fury but pacified. Someone would have to throw this wall down first too. ]
You're not the only one who's afraid. [ Her voice is quiet as she says it, and she looks down at the space between them instead of up into his eyes. Some part of her is afraid that if she says this, she will find hope there. ] You remember the future those insects showed for me. I can't stop thinking about it. About if something will happen to Finn before we can stop Snoke, about if that's part of the future we saw that night.
[ She could leave it at that. But she remembers what he said about Luke, about the fact that she needed someone to talk to and he couldn't quite understand why she thought it couldn't be him. That he wasn't waiting to take joy in that pain. Let him have been telling the truth. Please. ]
After I saw you last in Perdition's Rest, something happened. The reverend rallied his followers against us. To end it, I killed him. [ A point which stands in starker contrast considering she had only just before that harangued him for killing bandits needlessly. Death should never be the first choice and she had-- ] Keith discovered later that he hadn't been in control of his actions; he had a parasite in his mind. Keith said I couldn't have known, but... [ She could have. The Force could have shown her if she had been a better study, if she had sucked it up to admit what she really wanted from Anakin. ] I still killed an innocent man, someone I should have been trying to save.
[ She gets quiet then. The next step is to articulate how all this fits together in her brain and she doesn't have that part yet. ]
I've been thinking about that a lot lately. About whether you're trying to turn me, and why it scares me. [ She looks back up at him then. ] I'm trying to trust you instead of my fear.
[He listens, fists still resting on her hands as if he'd forgotten they were there. No, he had not forgotten about the insects, as much as he had wanted to. He could remember the fear creeping up the back of his neck around every corner he earned, throwing himself bodily in front of everything and everyone that had come in harm's way. The way his uncle would have wanted him to do, and the way he felt most fulfilled.
That people needed him. That he could do something right.
And then Rey, consumed by the dark side. How she was drawn to him then, too -- to the Light, and the Jedi. How she'd reminded him of Snoke, and returned him to the Dark. It makes him sick, to think about it now with everything that had happened since. I have only gained by his hand he'd once said. He'd been so hungry to cling to Snoke's trust in him that he had failed to see what he was really doing.
But more importantly, there was something else she had said -- The Dark Side, the Light. I told you: it's more complicated than that. It comes to mind again, as it had when she'd attempted to corner him just a few days ago. Maybe it was more complicated than that.
The parasites -- he remembered hearing of it, shortly before it came time for him to transfer. By then, there was nothing he could do about it. He was severely injured and being moved away from them. But he remembered. Was she comparing him to one of them? The Dark Side to a parasite?
Then no. She still does not understand.]
I don't need saving.
[There is no bite this time, when he says it. He's exhausted, both from the relentless assault of the Dark, and from having to think so hard about all of this.]
I'm going to kill the Supreme Leader. There is no future where we both will live. [He trusts that it will be with her, as the Force had shown them.] I do not believe you need to turn to accomplish that.
[He opens his mouth to say something else, his eyes still cast downward, like he cannot pull the thought to the surface. His jaw shifts uncomfortably, and no sound comes out for a stretch of time.]
[ He doesn't open to her as she had hoped he might. His hands remain balled into fists, and still she holds onto him, an unwelcome hanger-on. She lowers her gaze as he begins to reply, realizing that he will still hold himself separate from her.
Maybe it isn't that he doesn't know what he wants and rather that she hasn't been ready to accept the possibility that what he wants isn't what she wants. It seems obvious, now, and in that way, it leaves her feeling foolish.
And so it goes that when he tells her that not only does he think himself incapable of the task, but that he thinks she could never turn, it strikes her as backhanded. The reassurance soothes some of the wounds she has been nursing for two months now, since they had first joined Hathaway on the Viridian Sea.
He doesn't think she's capable of the kind of evil she's been worried she's slipping into. Maybe because they define that darkness from opposite angles. Maybe because he knows better what it looks like, and isn't afraid of just the shadow of it. That heartens her, puts her at peace with some of her own fears about turning, but β
But it also feels like a strangely final thing to say. Like he's not saying it to reassure her at all, rather, to make it clear that this thing will never be reconciled between them. Neither of them will turn; neither of them will be what the other needs them to be.
She thinks, again, of Keith and his abbreviated explanation of why he and Lance had separated, and she can feel the burn of tears forming behind her eyes again. ]
Then what do you want?
[ She puzzles over it at first, then lifts her eyes to search him. He still won't even look at her. She can feel the bite of frustration rise up and she's sure it isn't his because her anger feels different than his. He doesn't believe he needs saving and he doesn't believe she can be turned and yet he's everywhere. He's everywhere. ]
Tell me. Because I don't understand. What do you want from me? [ maybe before, in the mountain clan, she had believed him, but since thenβ ] And don't tell me you want to be left alone because you came to me. [ Twice now, at least. He reached out to her when she arrived at the sea clan. He had come here today when he could have iced her out. ]
[Her anger feels better than her attempts to soothe him. That's familiar, that's tangible. His fists unclench, but do not move to lace through her fingers. It feels like a silly gesture -- but it also feels necessary. This had been a long time coming. They both needed to know where the other stood.]
I don't know.
[That will not be substantial enough, but it is all he has for her. And truly, he does not know. Coming into this, he had an answer -- he wanted to turn her, to rule the galaxy after dispatching Snoke with her at his side as his apprentice. That likelihood had been slipping away ever since they became to cross paths here. More and more, it became obvious that they would simply always be circling each other, reaching out but never crossing that line.
But the Dark side, for all he spoke of its presence, was corrupting. She was not tainted by it, as he was. There was no true way to turn back from the dark. Its stain was always there -- physically, mentally, emotionally. It was knowledge he didn't have the words for.
So all he can say is I don't know, because he still wants all those things she seems to want -- understanding. Commonality. Some way to turn from the feeling of being pulled in two different directions.
But she doesn't know the extent of what that means, and so he cannot fault her confusion. All he can do is resign that this alliance between them may simply not be possible.]
[ That's when she pulls away from him, taking a step back. Even that much sucks the air out of her lungs and it feels like she's trying to cut herself off from a limb, but she has to do it. He couldn't be clearer.
Her face burns and it takes a moment for her to recognize that it's because her tears are falling, now. She raises one hand to wipe them away with the back of her sleeve, feeling stupid and foolish for ever coming out here in the first place. For the first time, she doesn't want him to see her like this. She doesn't want him to know. Over and over again she had split herself down the middle, made herself vulnerable to him, and for what? She feels suddenly keenly ashamed of it. ]
When you figure it out, you know how to contact me. [ Her voice is watery and thick with grief and hurt. This, this is worse than the anger he'd come at her with.
She turns away quite suddenly and reaches her hand back to call her staff from the side of the cave. Then she crouches to grab her lightsaber, and with it tucked in her sleeve, she starts back towards the castle. Urahara's voice is the one in her head, giving her the strength to move her feet.
If she waits for him to say something, she won't be able to do it. Already each step feels like resisting gravity. ]
[Before she can get far, his hand shoots out to grab her upper arm. She might have the will to leave this here, but he does not -- where she is strong, he is weak. He knows what the Force has shown them. He knows what he doesn't want.
This time, he is looking at her. His lightsaber remains abandoned in the grass.]
Before you go.
[His tone doesn't change (though he is quiet), for he seems resigned that he's not going to change her mind on this. He knows he wants to ask something, but phrasing the question is -- hard. It might be impossible. But he's going to try.]
Is this it?
[He has to know. Was everything she had given him conditional on returning him to the Light? This agenda she had -- how much of it was duty, how much of it was naivety, and how much was it genuine?
Maybe if she walks away for good, it will get easier. The conflict will lessen, and he will be able to do the same.]
[ Heat shoots through her from where he grabs her arm and Rey whips around to look at him. She regrets it immediately. Gravity, yeah, that was a good way of saying it. Her eyes land on him and she wants to pivot towards him and β and what? Her eyes search his face. All she feels is the pull as her breath catches in her chest.
For that reason alone, her answer comes out quickly. ]
No. [ Her lips twitch into what's almost a smile, but it's reluctant. Regretful, really, like maybe she knows it would be easier if it were. Or maybe like she just knows that she hopes it's not. To qualify her certainty, she provides, ] My feelings haven't changed.
[ She wants to be close to him. There is good in him. And perhaps clearer now is the picture that she cannot force him to turn. These all hold true. But she's given everything she has β and, true, that's not much. She's not much. So perhaps he'll look at it and decide it's not enough. But she still hopes not. ]
But I won't stay where I'm not wanted.
[ Another sad smile strikes her then. She thinks of her parents. They were the ones to teach her that lesson, and in that way, it was because of Ben that she could do this in the first place instead of staying and pointlessly pouring herself into something fruitless and pathetic. ]
Now that he has that answer, he is once again unsure what to do. He supposes he should let her go, and allow her to be on her way. But there is still the feeling that he's -- missed something, in trying to communicate his actual problem with what they've been doing.]
You are right. I called you here. Before he confronted me.
[Confronted, because Finn had come with the intention to fight with him, whether or not he wants to admit it. He came to make demands, not to listen or to compromise.
Its a clarification, as much as it is rationalization, mostly for himself. He is certain that he wants her there. He just -- doesn't want everything else that seems to be coming with it.
He swallows. That fear is creeping up in his throat again. It hardens with his voice.]
I don't want to be a tool for anyone's agenda. I won't.
[ The subtle shift in his voice, the rise of blame and aggression, has her bristling. She tenses in his grip, keenly aware of it and of the fact that it keeps her subject to him deciding how long he wants this to go on for. That's always been the way; that's the problem she'd been trying to address in leaving.
But what he says sounds a lot like what Keith had said. Out of Ben's mouth, it sounds an awful lot more like an accusation than a search for understanding, or an encouragement to stop enslaving herself to the good of others, but it's a variation on the same theme.
It's a question that has hung over her head for the past two months too. Is this really for the Resistance? Ben is their only hope. If she comes back without Luke, without Ben, then they're doomed. It would be a lie to say her hope for him isn't wrapped up in hope for them.
But she sticks on the word tool.
And then he releases her, and she's able to tuck her lightsaber away as she had intended, further reiterating that she has no intention of turning this into a confrontation. No matter what Finn and Poe are like.
It's β¦ confusing. But saying it to Keith makes it easier to say now, as does her distance from Ahch-to and the perspective her time with ALASTAIR has offered, the perspective of such a long stretch spent spiraling without anyone to help her or understand.
Putting aside her hopes that he might choose to stand with her, that he might be something bigger, and the way she uses those hopes to justify and rationalize an otherwise selfish decision as somehow bigger than that β after all, because it is also right and good does not mean that is her reason for doing it, and compounded on that is the clarity that 'right and good' Finn and Poe have various Issues with this particular approach β this is β¦ ]
No.
[ She doesn't want him to be a tool for anyone. Not for her. Not for Snoke. Not for the Resistance. She didn't come here for them; she came because she couldn't stand to let go of Keith and Urahara. She came because she wanted information about her parents that the island left her without. Maybe that makes Finn and Poe better than her, somehow, but she didn't come to him for that either. ]
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but it's without context. she has the impressions, the vague shape of his rage without any concept of what stoked it.
concern ripples through her expression in the moment that neither of them speaks. she searches his expression for some answer, but holds her ground, maintaining the distance between them rather than following her impulse to draw nearer. though she isn't afraid β he would not turn against her, surely, not given what thrawn had indicated, not given their last conversation β she has enough self preservation not to draw nearer when she can feel that.
and she's not going to fuck around with it either. she asks plainly, ] What happened?
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His grip on his lightsaber tightens. The Dark swirls about him, inky and corrupting. What happened? As if she didn't already know.]
I was blind, not to have seen.
[It comes out on a forced exhale, like it hurts to say, but also as if releasing a great burden. He swallows it down and forces himself to keep talking. He's not going to fuck around either -- not now.]
He came to me, not long after you. Finn. Demanding my cooperation, in the same way Commander Dameron had.
[Not FN-2187. FN-2187 would not have had the gumption to look him in the eyes like that. He knows the difference.]
He also said that you had seen something. In me.
[This thumb presses into the hilt of his lightsaber, hard enough to turn the skin under his fingernail white. The only thing keeping him from activating it and rushing is how much he is seething.]
I wonder what else you have told him.
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there's a thinly restrained fury in his voice, in how he holds himself, that puts her on her guard even though she hears no crime to speak of in what he relays. nothing that gives context to his feelings. in fact, for a brief instant, she almost β smiles? he has called finn by his name β but it fades back into a look of chagrin before it fully forms.
so all she can do is give him the truth. ]
Nothing.
[ it's vehement and immediate, and she searches his face with such wild confusion that there's simply no mistaking it for deception. ]
What are you talking about?
[ because she can't imagine. she's surprised, then, to find that her jaw is clenched, tight with some emotion that does not belong to her. it loosens with a quick glance down of recognition, but then her eyes catch the glint of something else in his hand.
she can feel him squeezing it, sense his intent. he's one wrong word from charging. fear rises in her like a fever, sudden and disorienting. she can feel her gut tighten with the urge to defend herself already. a flood of adrenaline. she had told no one where she had gone, where to find her. she had trusted him. she had found somewhere isolated, somewhere private, andβ
no, that's the dark. she dismisses its influence with a slight tick of her chin. if it dictates them both, there's no telling where they will end up here. she draws a deep breath, centering herself, and finds his gaze. it hurts to hold it because she can see hatred there. for her, yes. there's no doubt now, even if she still can't grasp why. it's not as though finn had poisoned him against her. ]
Put that away. [ the cadence of her voice slows to something serene and certain. she won't let this escalate. ] I'm not going to fight you.
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[Something compels him to pace, urges him toward calm. He doesn't think to resist it -- he wants this to go away, as much as he wants to embrace it. His jaw remains clenched, braced against his own shaking grip. He doesn't even think to look for deception in her answer -- he's too blinded by his own pain, incapable of seeing truth beyond it. Just as he's incapable of seeing how Rey's light draws him in.
The lightsaber stays in his hand. Its a security blanket, so much so that he gestures at her with it, in spite of the fact that its still deactivated.]
You told him, about the bridge.
[Its obvious then how shaken he is by the corruption that bleeds into him. It comes out like an earthquake building when he relays it. I trusted you isn't spoken aloud, but it doesn't need to be. He trusted her, and it was a mistake. Even after everything he'd told her, about the dark and the light --]
You still want to turn me. I won't.
[He can't.]
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[ the words come out with patient firmness, even as he points the lightsaber in her direction. she didn't come here to fight him β not like this, at least. β and she didn't tell finn anything about this thing between them. she couldn't possibly.
she reaches into her sleeve, slowly, cautiously, and pulls her lightsaber out. something in her screams for her to hold onto it, but that only makes her throw more certain and more forceful. it clatters onto the uneven rocks and dirt and mulch between them.
it's a symbolic gesture only, of course. with the force, she could pull it back into her grip easily. but it's, she hopes, enough to communicate that she really won't give him the fight he so sorely wants, one she would not want to win.
the rest is β¦ more complicated. it seems so obvious. she had never claimed that she would stop trying to turn him, of course, so she can't fully comprehend why he's so hurt by it. why he's so hurt by her speaking to finn. but she can see that he is, and for that reason alone, it's worth delicacy.
of course she wants him to turn. doesn't he want the same? wouldn't it be easier for both of them, to be on the same side, and not opposed? i don't know that ben knows what ben wants. how many times has she come back to that same statement now? she can hardly count.
it helps her now, though, to think that it's not about want β he's just reacting, not unlike a cornered animal. overwhelmed. panicked.
so she doesn't argue the point, that she wants him to turn. it would only feed whatever paranoia this is, give him some reason to lash out. she won't lie to him β even if she tried, she's not sure she could. they haven't lied to each other since this started. if they had, it wouldn't have been worth preserving. ]
All I've tried to do is be close to you. [ she grabs onto that because, well, it's only recently that she had regained any sense of certainty that he wanted that too. that he might reach for it. ] Why push me away now? What are you afraid of?
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He heaves angrily. Its an insult, that she won't fight him -- or, it would have been, under different circumstances. But his head jerks back to her suspiciously before long, like he does not trust her intentions. And even then, she voices them, plain as day.
She wanted to be close to him. There's a moment where he almost believes it, and the darkness in his eyes clears some. But no -- not close to him. Close to Ben, that name she keeps calling him, to the shadow of him that she doesn't even know. Some nebulous person that's long dead.]
No. You want to be close to Ben Solo.
[She's trying to manipulate him, just like everyone else is. Except her intent is perhaps even more sinister than everyone else's. She wants to drag him back to the Light, so it will be impossible for him to resist judgement when it came.
He's just another tool. What he wants doesn't matter. It never has, to anyone.
His non-dominant hand reaches out to call the saber she's discarded into it, and he triggers the activation of both blades, such that they cross and crackle against one another, aimed downward so she can see what he's done. He feels better, like this -- more in control of the situation, and of himself.
She wouldn't resist a fight with her life in danger.]
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well. the force would have been able to bring it back to her hand, had he not taken it for himself. that she hadn't seen that coming and that he immediately ignites it prove the first signs that maybe she's made a questionable decision here. when the snap-hiss sounds, she flinches slightly, a jump that betrays that crossing that line changes things, somehow.
she swallows the lump in her throat, but it goes nowhere.
the heat in her face and arms is surely not actually the pulsing of the lightsabers, but it sure feels like it. her heart and stomach feel like lead in her gut. no. it's not the ozone burning. it's her fear. creeping up, consuming her.
real and present fear for her life sends any puzzled attempt to sift through the difference between ben solo and kylo ren out of her thoughts along with any concern that he's divorcing himself of the forgotten name. she can feel her muscles tightening like they're trying to walk her back towards the cave, but she can't bring herself to move. is that bravery or stupidity? or just more fear? ]
To you.
[ she says it again. what a stupid thing to dig her heels in on, she thinks as soon as it's out, but it's what she's got. but it gives her voice back to her, and she draws in a hurried breath. it sounds an awful lot like she's rushing the words out now, like she needs to get them out before he cuts her off in a bad way. time is short if she wants to avert a fight that she officially might not win. that's what she gets for telling poe she was the only one who'd successfully beaten him. stupid. ]
I can't force you to turn. I know that. [ she can feel tears pricking her eyes even as she says it aloud. urahara was right, that bastard. and this is, perhaps, punishment for her arrogance. but back in the empire of the crashing wave, and when she'd spoken to thrawn, she'd thoughtβ maybe, he'd started to want to. maybe. it strikes her then, and before she can think to herself hey maybe don't say that out loud, she's saying it aloud. ] That's what really scares you.
[ that he has a reason to want to. that ben solo is a part of him, still, one that can't be buried. ]
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[Its a scoff of disgust. He can see the tears pricking her eyes and can feel the pressure behind his own. Its -- not as satisfying as he had hoped. In fact, its the opposite. The righteous bite of his fury feels...less, somehow. It brings to bare how much how much he'd absorbed from her and vice versa. How much the bond was really effecting them both.
And it slides over his skin again like oil, this creeping feeling of dread -- that he'd gone too far, let her get too close when he wasn't looking. That he was too invested in her presence, in her skillset, in everything about her. It seemed like such a natural thing, two years ago. A need for an apprentice, to carry on Snoke's teachings. To pass on what he'd learned.
This is different. Why is it different? When did it become different? Why did neither Snoke nor Luke possess this haunting spectre hounding them from the other side? The conflict continues to swirl.]
No. I know its too late.
[That's what he'd said to his father. That's what he had felt from Luke, that night he'd come to kill him. He pulls on those memories now, even as it makes his face go numb, as he blinks hard to hold Rey's tears back. It had taken a long time to understand, but he gets it now. By nature, this would always happen. He would be the one to pull the truth of things to the surface, no matter the cost, at all times. And his willingness to do that made him a monster. That's what history had told him.
That's what all the people he'd ever trusted or believed in had told him. And they were right.]
I know what lies at the end of that road.
[Death. Pain. Betrayal. Consequences. Why did she want to bring him there so badly?]
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[ there's no thought behind the question. it comes out too quickly for that. but no, he's not talking about some vision of the future passed to him by the force; he's talking about his fear, and taking it for real. he could not know what lay down a road he refused to even look down; if he did, he might see her there.
some part of her wonders, briefly, if he's right. if this is an impossibility. if there was never a chance of them being able to trust each other. but β¦ he hasn't come at her yet. he has both of their weapons and he's only standing there, holding onto them the way a child might hold onto a doll. the way she had done. he's not sure of anything; he's just a frightened child.
she draws a breath, steadying herself with that thought. ]
If you really believe that it's too late for you, then you have nothing to fear from me. [ tears ebbing, she nods to him as though to point out that, considering she's unarmed and out here alone against kylo ren with two lightsabers, he sure looks awfully frightened of someone who has no power over him. ] I'm not your enemy. You know that.
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I'm not your enemy. You know that.
Did he?
Me. Next time, you will have me.
All I've tried to do is be closer to you. To Ben Solo. To you.
He felt her fear. But even feeling that fear, she had not raised her hand. She had more control than him -- a desert scavenger, and Snoke's apprentice. How was that possible?
Thinking about it, tugged in both directions makes something in his blood seize. It hurts so intensely. He had to silence it. He had to silence her--
Abruptly, he raises his arms to deactivate both sabers and pushes them to either side of himself with a furious shout, far out of reach. And just like that, weaponless and equal again. The evening of the scales, as it turns out, also seems to bleed some of the tension out of him. But he still looks not unlike a deer caught in headlights, frozen and uncertain what to do with himself now that they've found this ground between them.
It didn't feel right, raising a weapon to her like that. But surrendering, that doesn't feel right either. What is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to move beyond this?]
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and him, too. all that rage, and he hadn'tβ she is not without understanding of how hard even that kind of calm was to reach for him. the bond, maybe, but she wants to give him more credit than that. she wants to β¦ hope.
he hates her for that, she realizes. that's what this was.
she's not sure what question to ask; why it had hurt him that she had told finn even that much, where he supposed the line was supposed to be, a half dozen others. so none of them come out.
the lightsabers are forgotten as she takes a slow step towards him, and then another. she's not exactly running to close the distance, but she's sure that it's what she wants to do. ]
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Suffocation. Exhaustion. Pain. Adrenaline, with nowhere for it to go. He can only imagine this is what the Dark side feels like, to those not inclined to it naturally.
What had she done to him? Why had the Force thrust this upon them?
Kylo Ren's eyes drop, bewildered both at his sudden self-reflection and the distant sound of ringing in his skull. The disassociation with the world around him starts to set in.
She's right, of course -- he hates that hope she has, and how he could never possess it himself. That spark that his mother kept close, she'd never managed to share it with him properly, but Rey had somehow picked it up in his stead.]
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in a soothing gesture, one that gives her time to work through what she's going to say and calm herself down from the panic and adrenaline that still close up her throat, rey runs her hands down his arms. she keeps a firm grip until his elbows, then loosens up until she reaches his hands.
emptied of their weapons, she takes his hands in hers. at first, wrapped around his fists, but she sort of worms his fingers between his grip to loosen them. ]
Help me understand what it is about what Finn said that upset you.
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Kylo tries to unpack the gesture as it moves, leaving it to do its job until they reach his fists. When he feels her try to worm her hands inside, it is a reflex to clench them harder, until his nails begin to dig little half-moons into his own palms. That helps too -- the sharpness brings him back to focus.
And while he is distracted with keeping that strange distance he feels like he needs, like shadow shrinking from the light coming to intrude upon it, he digests her question. Could he even answer that? Did he have an answer? She'd broken his trust -- hadn't she? Or had he simply imagined that, when he realized he had made the subconscious choice to trust her at all?
Help me understand implies that she wants him to explain to her, why Finn claiming that Rey had hope that he could do good in the world had upset him so much. But he cannot even explain to himself -- doesn't have the words, the sensitivity, or the awareness. So he is stuck, staring like he is on the other side of a glass wall.]
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she can't do anything if he won't even speak. ]
Please don't shut me out.
[ there's something raw about the way she makes that plea. more vulnerable than she had been before. a fight is a fight, but this is about a feeling. her fingers no longer try to dig at his hands, but instead rest beneath his fists, palms open in offering and brushing his knuckles as if waiting for him to accept. ]
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She wasn't alone. She was surrounded. He was alone -- and he liked it that way. Or so he thought. These days, it hurts more.]
I couldn't.
[Even if he wanted to. And he does want to -- some part of him still wants to retreat. Some part of him might always want to retreat. But he'd never be able to shut her out entirely, unless he found away to close this door wedged open between them.
And that is why all of this hurts so badly. He is at odds with himself again, and being torn apart. Was this what Darth Vader might have felt, had he not been killed? Was this just -- going to be the way it was, for the rest of his life?]
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She thinks of Keith, and how he had the sense to admit he was bad at being with Lance. If that's the alternative she can't do it, but still she thinks maybe it's the wiser choice. Ben obviously believed as much.
He's still afraid of her. That should feel like a win because it means she is right and he does believe on some level that he can return down that path with her. But it doesn't feel like that. There's no vindication there. Just a wound splitting her chest open, making it hard to breathe.
She can't blame him for it, can she? They're both afraid of being pulled across by the other. Armed to the teeth and trying to maintain control without fully giving of themselves. That's the crack in the engine.
One of them will have to give first. She'd done it just now, throwing away her lightsaber, and it had terrified her and he could have killed her but also... look at him now. Not drained of his fury but pacified. Someone would have to throw this wall down first too. ]
You're not the only one who's afraid. [ Her voice is quiet as she says it, and she looks down at the space between them instead of up into his eyes. Some part of her is afraid that if she says this, she will find hope there. ] You remember the future those insects showed for me. I can't stop thinking about it. About if something will happen to Finn before we can stop Snoke, about if that's part of the future we saw that night.
[ She could leave it at that. But she remembers what he said about Luke, about the fact that she needed someone to talk to and he couldn't quite understand why she thought it couldn't be him. That he wasn't waiting to take joy in that pain. Let him have been telling the truth. Please. ]
After I saw you last in Perdition's Rest, something happened. The reverend rallied his followers against us. To end it, I killed him. [ A point which stands in starker contrast considering she had only just before that harangued him for killing bandits needlessly. Death should never be the first choice and she had-- ] Keith discovered later that he hadn't been in control of his actions; he had a parasite in his mind. Keith said I couldn't have known, but... [ She could have. The Force could have shown her if she had been a better study, if she had sucked it up to admit what she really wanted from Anakin. ] I still killed an innocent man, someone I should have been trying to save.
[ She gets quiet then. The next step is to articulate how all this fits together in her brain and she doesn't have that part yet. ]
I've been thinking about that a lot lately. About whether you're trying to turn me, and why it scares me. [ She looks back up at him then. ] I'm trying to trust you instead of my fear.
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That people needed him. That he could do something right.
And then Rey, consumed by the dark side. How she was drawn to him then, too -- to the Light, and the Jedi. How she'd reminded him of Snoke, and returned him to the Dark. It makes him sick, to think about it now with everything that had happened since. I have only gained by his hand he'd once said. He'd been so hungry to cling to Snoke's trust in him that he had failed to see what he was really doing.
But more importantly, there was something else she had said -- The Dark Side, the Light. I told you: it's more complicated than that. It comes to mind again, as it had when she'd attempted to corner him just a few days ago. Maybe it was more complicated than that.
The parasites -- he remembered hearing of it, shortly before it came time for him to transfer. By then, there was nothing he could do about it. He was severely injured and being moved away from them. But he remembered. Was she comparing him to one of them? The Dark Side to a parasite?
Then no. She still does not understand.]
I don't need saving.
[There is no bite this time, when he says it. He's exhausted, both from the relentless assault of the Dark, and from having to think so hard about all of this.]
I'm going to kill the Supreme Leader. There is no future where we both will live. [He trusts that it will be with her, as the Force had shown them.] I do not believe you need to turn to accomplish that.
[He opens his mouth to say something else, his eyes still cast downward, like he cannot pull the thought to the surface. His jaw shifts uncomfortably, and no sound comes out for a stretch of time.]
Nor...do I believe you capable of turning.
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Maybe it isn't that he doesn't know what he wants and rather that she hasn't been ready to accept the possibility that what he wants isn't what she wants. It seems obvious, now, and in that way, it leaves her feeling foolish.
And so it goes that when he tells her that not only does he think himself incapable of the task, but that he thinks she could never turn, it strikes her as backhanded. The reassurance soothes some of the wounds she has been nursing for two months now, since they had first joined Hathaway on the Viridian Sea.
He doesn't think she's capable of the kind of evil she's been worried she's slipping into. Maybe because they define that darkness from opposite angles. Maybe because he knows better what it looks like, and isn't afraid of just the shadow of it. That heartens her, puts her at peace with some of her own fears about turning, but β
But it also feels like a strangely final thing to say. Like he's not saying it to reassure her at all, rather, to make it clear that this thing will never be reconciled between them. Neither of them will turn; neither of them will be what the other needs them to be.
She thinks, again, of Keith and his abbreviated explanation of why he and Lance had separated, and she can feel the burn of tears forming behind her eyes again. ]
Then what do you want?
[ She puzzles over it at first, then lifts her eyes to search him. He still won't even look at her. She can feel the bite of frustration rise up and she's sure it isn't his because her anger feels different than his. He doesn't believe he needs saving and he doesn't believe she can be turned and yet he's everywhere. He's everywhere. ]
Tell me. Because I don't understand. What do you want from me? [ maybe before, in the mountain clan, she had believed him, but since thenβ ] And don't tell me you want to be left alone because you came to me. [ Twice now, at least. He reached out to her when she arrived at the sea clan. He had come here today when he could have iced her out. ]
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I don't know.
[That will not be substantial enough, but it is all he has for her. And truly, he does not know. Coming into this, he had an answer -- he wanted to turn her, to rule the galaxy after dispatching Snoke with her at his side as his apprentice. That likelihood had been slipping away ever since they became to cross paths here. More and more, it became obvious that they would simply always be circling each other, reaching out but never crossing that line.
But the Dark side, for all he spoke of its presence, was corrupting. She was not tainted by it, as he was. There was no true way to turn back from the dark. Its stain was always there -- physically, mentally, emotionally. It was knowledge he didn't have the words for.
So all he can say is I don't know, because he still wants all those things she seems to want -- understanding. Commonality. Some way to turn from the feeling of being pulled in two different directions.
But she doesn't know the extent of what that means, and so he cannot fault her confusion. All he can do is resign that this alliance between them may simply not be possible.]
I know what I don't want.
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Her face burns and it takes a moment for her to recognize that it's because her tears are falling, now. She raises one hand to wipe them away with the back of her sleeve, feeling stupid and foolish for ever coming out here in the first place. For the first time, she doesn't want him to see her like this. She doesn't want him to know. Over and over again she had split herself down the middle, made herself vulnerable to him, and for what? She feels suddenly keenly ashamed of it. ]
When you figure it out, you know how to contact me. [ Her voice is watery and thick with grief and hurt. This, this is worse than the anger he'd come at her with.
She turns away quite suddenly and reaches her hand back to call her staff from the side of the cave. Then she crouches to grab her lightsaber, and with it tucked in her sleeve, she starts back towards the castle. Urahara's voice is the one in her head, giving her the strength to move her feet.
If she waits for him to say something, she won't be able to do it. Already each step feels like resisting gravity. ]
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This time, he is looking at her. His lightsaber remains abandoned in the grass.]
Before you go.
[His tone doesn't change (though he is quiet), for he seems resigned that he's not going to change her mind on this. He knows he wants to ask something, but phrasing the question is -- hard. It might be impossible. But he's going to try.]
Is this it?
[He has to know. Was everything she had given him conditional on returning him to the Light? This agenda she had -- how much of it was duty, how much of it was naivety, and how much was it genuine?
Maybe if she walks away for good, it will get easier. The conflict will lessen, and he will be able to do the same.]
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For that reason alone, her answer comes out quickly. ]
No. [ Her lips twitch into what's almost a smile, but it's reluctant. Regretful, really, like maybe she knows it would be easier if it were. Or maybe like she just knows that she hopes it's not. To qualify her certainty, she provides, ] My feelings haven't changed.
[ She wants to be close to him. There is good in him. And perhaps clearer now is the picture that she cannot force him to turn. These all hold true. But she's given everything she has β and, true, that's not much. She's not much. So perhaps he'll look at it and decide it's not enough. But she still hopes not. ]
But I won't stay where I'm not wanted.
[ Another sad smile strikes her then. She thinks of her parents. They were the ones to teach her that lesson, and in that way, it was because of Ben that she could do this in the first place instead of staying and pointlessly pouring herself into something fruitless and pathetic. ]
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Now that he has that answer, he is once again unsure what to do. He supposes he should let her go, and allow her to be on her way. But there is still the feeling that he's -- missed something, in trying to communicate his actual problem with what they've been doing.]
You are right. I called you here. Before he confronted me.
[Confronted, because Finn had come with the intention to fight with him, whether or not he wants to admit it. He came to make demands, not to listen or to compromise.
Its a clarification, as much as it is rationalization, mostly for himself. He is certain that he wants her there. He just -- doesn't want everything else that seems to be coming with it.
He swallows. That fear is creeping up in his throat again. It hardens with his voice.]
I don't want to be a tool for anyone's agenda. I won't.
[Another swallow, this time, he releases her.]
Is that what you want from me?
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But what he says sounds a lot like what Keith had said. Out of Ben's mouth, it sounds an awful lot more like an accusation than a search for understanding, or an encouragement to stop enslaving herself to the good of others, but it's a variation on the same theme.
It's a question that has hung over her head for the past two months too. Is this really for the Resistance? Ben is their only hope. If she comes back without Luke, without Ben, then they're doomed. It would be a lie to say her hope for him isn't wrapped up in hope for them.
But she sticks on the word tool.
And then he releases her, and she's able to tuck her lightsaber away as she had intended, further reiterating that she has no intention of turning this into a confrontation. No matter what Finn and Poe are like.
It's β¦ confusing. But saying it to Keith makes it easier to say now, as does her distance from Ahch-to and the perspective her time with ALASTAIR has offered, the perspective of such a long stretch spent spiraling without anyone to help her or understand.
Putting aside her hopes that he might choose to stand with her, that he might be something bigger, and the way she uses those hopes to justify and rationalize an otherwise selfish decision as somehow bigger than that β after all, because it is also right and good does not mean that is her reason for doing it, and compounded on that is the clarity that 'right and good' Finn and Poe have various Issues with this particular approach β this is β¦ ]
No.
[ She doesn't want him to be a tool for anyone. Not for her. Not for Snoke. Not for the Resistance. She didn't come here for them; she came because she couldn't stand to let go of Keith and Urahara. She came because she wanted information about her parents that the island left her without. Maybe that makes Finn and Poe better than her, somehow, but she didn't come to him for that either. ]
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