The Art of Broken Pieces

88 Porgs (175 On the Moon)

The following days passed in a sort of uneasy silence. Ben wasn't exactly avoiding Rey, but she left early in the day to continue her work on the Betrayal, and he spent long afternoons either going over communications or plying local informants for information on their mysterious host for the upcoming dinner. Ben still had access to old First Order information servers, but neither the names that she went by nor her facial recognition brought up any data.

The times that they did pass each other in the villa were awkward and tense, punctuated by vague greetings and halting pleasantries. Ben knew that eventually they would have to talk again, but somehow this seemed like neither the time nor the place to do so. The things he had to say to her froze in his mind and failed to make it to his tongue, disappearing whenever he saw her. Unaware, the beauty droid trundled happily around Rey wherever she went, doing its best to 'educate' her on the finer points of being a woman. Ben also left the capable job of helping Rey to find a dress for the evening in its small robotic hands, trusting it not to let Rey embarrass herself publicly.

As the night of the dinner to which they had been invited arrived, Ben stood before the mirror in his room, absently adjusting the gold cuffs on the long tunic he wore and wondering what they were walking into. The reflection looking back at him felt strange, like a portrait rather than an accurate image. The high collar of the heavily embroidered jacket was threaded with soft gold, gold buttons decorating the black velvet at an angle from shoulder to opposite hip. He had pulled the back half of his hair into a short queue, leaving enough dark curls to fall over the embarrassing ears that had caused Rey such amusement back on Artas. The tunic was long enough to cover the tops of the high boots that he wore, dark synthetic leather rising to his knees. Bracing himself for the tension of the evening ahead, Ben pulled thin black gloves on over his bandaged hands, wincing slightly. They still were not healing as well as he liked, although he knew he wasn't exactly making it easy.

Stepping out into the common area he froze, breath catching in his lungs as Rey turned at the sound of his entrance.

The gown she had chosen was of the darkest midnight blue, one bare shoulder exposed and thick fabric gathering over the other at a worked silver clasp before falling down in a half-cape that trailed the floor. The rest hugged her form, a wide band of silver embroidery spiraling across her hips above the smooth fall of floor length gown. It was elegant, and she was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. The droid was still hovering behind her, trying to tame the waterfall of brown curls that tumbled around her shoulders.

Ben tried to remember how to breathe, and wasn't entirely sure he was succeeding.

"You look... refined." He managed awkwardly, cursing himself inwardly for the awkward choice of words.

She studied Ben just as closely, uncertain how to translate the expression on his face or the surprise and awkwardness tingling through their bond. 'Refined' was good. She'd chosen the dress that reminded her most of Leia, and 'refined' was as good a descriptor for the princess-come-general as any.

Ben, on the other hand, managed his usual brooding hauteur with a sort of menacing suavity that caught her off guard. The gold and black outfit didn't diminish his size in the same way as the shadowy robe he'd once worn. Instead, the diagonal cut of buttons emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and chest, while the tall boots and snug trousers beneath the long coat showed off the length of his legs. Overall, it did the most of any outfit she'd seen to reveal his undeniably handsome proportions.

"You look intimidating," she said. "In a good way."

RD, as she'd taken to thinking of the beauty droid, waved a jeweled comb in her face. "If you would please let me pin up your hair, Madam Tahn," the droid said.