They took a private speeder to one of the hillside residential districts, where Ben had rented out a small--by Aurelian standards--villa. It was a tumble of walkways and balconies, each overlooking the crystalline city below. On one side of the building, a sheer drop under the decking fell over a hundred meters down to the surface of one winding canal, lit by floating lanterns and the slow movement of silver gondolas. Ben stopped them at the door, taking a moment to calibrate the locks to Rey's hand-print and face as well, before herding her inside. "Settle in wherever you like, and stow your things."
Despite his need to keep his distance from her, it was hard not to enjoy the wide-eyed wonder with which she regarded everything around her.
"Then we can go shopping."
The villa was incredible. Furnished and welcoming in all the ways that hadn't been true of the big empty estate Poe hated so much. It had small rooms, heaped with blankets and carpeted with rugs that seemed to mold around her foot with each step. She dropped her satchel on the chair in the smallest corner room and turned in a circle, impressed and confused by the silky fabric on the walls, the chips of rainbow cast from the glittering fixtures, and how snug and well-thought out it all seemed. She hadn't realized luxury and coziness could cohabitate.
An hour later, once she'd spent time in the refresher trying all the different buttons (and re-showering twice after her explorations doused her in alien pheromones) she was in the sleek speeder with Ben.
"Explain again why we have to go shopping for something for me to go shopping in," Rey said. "I know I can't wear this to one of the fancy events, but it's just...shopping."
"Because at the moment they won't even let you in the shops we need to be in." He sighed. "So we start somewhere simple. Get you basic things to wear that won't make people stare at you for all the wrong reasons." He held back his next thought, that it wouldn't be difficult to get them to stare at her for all the right reasons.
"Also, we will hold off on the next round until we know which events we need to attend. For the auction you'll need something classic, expensive, and understated."
It was satisfying to surprise her with skills she probably had assumed he lacked. Jedi apprentice and warlord hardly screamed high society.
Rey frowned, leaning back in the speeder as they streaked down the canal, shooting twin banners of water out behind them. She'd find a way to bully him out of the driver's seat before the night was out—the poor thing's engine was purring with the desire to open up and go faster.
The first set of streets they walked through contained mostly cafes, and Rey had to admit that she wasn't dressed half as well as one of the people sweeping up a trash area. She didn't mean to walk close to Ben, but his height seemed to draw her in, like he could loom over her and cast a shadow that would block her from the strange, sneering looks cast her way by all manner of aliens.
She was intrigued by the food, of course. They turned a corner just as a massive, blood-red jelly creation shaped like a castle erupted in flames. The jelly oozed away, dripping off the fluted sides into tiny glass cups, where it pooled, flaming. Underneath the jelly stood a statue of a hundred different people, twined together in an extremely indecent embrace that left no orifice unfilled by some kind of humanoid or alien appendage. She stopped to stare, tilting her head in shock as a stuffy looking waiter calmly tapped the thing with the back of a spoon, shattering it into a thousand tiny shards.
Beneath that, was a third creation. And beneath that...
Ben had to backtrack a few steps as he noticed that Rey had stopped, mesmerized by the dining show. He glanced at the tiny crystalline cakes that had been revealed under layers of theater, each held within a small liquid sphere of Aurelian liqueur. He sighed, taking her arm and looping it through his own both to keep up appearances and to steer her.
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Broken Pieces
FanfictionRey knew Ben Solo needed her. He'd never fully succeeded in killing his past, and those cornerstones of his life dragged behind him, a weight he refused to process, to grieve, and to forgive. That was what he needed her for. Not to stay his hand, or...