When the Day Loved the Night (On Temporary Hiatus!)

The Star That Burned for Her

The little Jedi studied her reflection, setting her palms on her platinum vanity.

The chalky framework of her mascara had seeped into the puffy sockets below her exhausted eyes, and she noted the cracking lines of foundation beaded atop her forehead. She lifted a hand to her face in a sigh.

It seemed not even a lifetime on Jakku matched the anxiety swarming her entrapment among the First Order nor the dread.

Rey frowned, encountering the swollen ache that punctured her solace once more.

This was to be the end, she knew.

What a cruel twist of fate for such an act of innocence to cripple the future in its own unjust way.

He had meant to protect her- something which stirred her heart in a way she loathed.

Kylo Ren had bestowed her a shield from their unruly puppeteer, yet he had forgotten one could not so simply sever the strings of Snoke's manipulation.

Rey felt the steady waterfall of time, dripping away gradually but surely alongside her own numbered moments. She had expected nothing less, craved this end to her slavery even. At last, she might see her friends again, her teacher, her parents long forgotten. Rey had begged so mercilessly for her own demise; it suited the force to finally answer her beckoning cry.

But, now she stood at the gaping void, and she was aghast at her dissatisfaction.

Perhaps, she had wished for a downfall by her own hands- not of Snoke's.

Rey clutched the vanity before her, sensing its grim lights flicker on her skin with the movement.

Opening her eyes as the heat of her breath fogged the mirror, she made her decision.

It would not be the Supreme Leader who spun her fate; no strings controlled her but the ones she had sewn inside herself.

The Jedi alone weaved her destiny.

Rey broke from her trance only by the rattling of a knock on her door. She was surprised the First Order carried even that much decency.

"What is it?"

She had not felt her shaking breath until her voice quivered aloud.

While the door to her room slid away, Rey composed herself as best she could, wiping away the feathers of wispy hair stuck to her sweat-ridden face.

Two stormtroopers stood at the bedroom's entrance.

Rey failed to wave her disappointment that, waiting for her, it was not indeed him.

Instead, she held herself higher, a queen as she had been among the conclave. She would not splinter her serene gaze in front of anyone of the First Order, not again. Rey was to be feared, for she knew the power of her vengeance buried in her own heart.

The lefthand trooper stepped toward her, "The Supreme Leader has requested your presence in his chambers."

The thrum of Rey's pulse halted.

So soon?

And, what of her ally? Where was he? Or, had his master conveniently forgotten to inform him of this, too?

"Of course," Rey's tongue glided gracefully atop the words as the stormtroopers grabbed her wrists and heaved her gruffly into the dimly lit hallway.

The Jedi did not need a Knight to save her.

She would rescue herself.

In a blur, Rey swung her hand up and against the cold, pleated armor of the stormtrooper to her right, knocking him away as she swiped the gun from his fingers and swung back to blast his companion. After the fire of a crimson bullet, he flew to the floor, and Rey seized the fleeting moment and dashed from the pair, lugging the blaster at her side.