Bonded in the Silence: A Reylo Fanfiction

Chapter 5: The Princess

"Supreme Leader?"

A pair of stormtroopers halted at the sight of Ren, having just turned the corner as Rey faded.

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he barrelled in between the troopers, shoulder armour knocking them aside awkwardly. Fear and confusion lingered in their thoughts as he turned the corner in the direction they had come and continued down that corridor.

Let them fear me.

The fury was overtaking him again; a rolling, angry fire that blazed behind his eyes. He was dangerously close to losing control.

Arriving at the turbo lift, he nearly smashed the panel with his leather fist, but it slid open at the last moment. A janitorial droid with an attendee hastily jumped out as Ren barged inside and pressed the command floor of his destination.

His nostrils flared with every deep, barely controlled breath. He was so very close, but strained to maintain his emotions. He glanced down at the new helmet in the crook of his arm, furiously wishing he'd been wearing it when the connection with Rey switched on.

The turbolift doors opened to an empty floor, and there was only a small droid making its way along the edge of the walls; the whine of its tiny vacuum working hurriedly.

Ren took lengthy strides, reaching the unit at the end of floor, and scanned the seal ring at the entry. The door closed behind him once he stepped inside.

Releasing the helmet to the table beside the door, he walked to the edge of the large bed and sat quietly.

The fury was still there with him in the silence. It came so quickly at times, impossible to tell if it was Ren, or a separate entity enraged for him. It enveloped his mind, roared in his ears, and blinded or narrowed his vision, to the point where all that mattered was satisfying its thirst.

Was it his pain transfigured by the dark side? Was it the dark side itself?

He closed his eyes as he fought for control.

The fury was closing in behind him now; a suffocating wall of heat begging to be released. Kylo's shoulders sagged forward as he brought his fists up against his cheeks. The leather creaked tightly under curled fingers.

Behind his eyelids, a memory played out.

There was firelight dancing against wet cheeks.

The face staring at him had green eyes, and long lashes, with shapely lips that were speaking to him earnestly and in trust. A soft voice accompanied the face, telling him the story of a cave, and a revelation of disappointment.

A bodiless voice told the face "you're not alone".

His own voice.

The face said "Neither are you. It isn't too late."

A hand was reaching for him; delicate but strong, and patient in its offering.

He noticed his ungloved right hand dwarfed hers as he reached back.

Would it be warm? Will it pass right through?

What felt like an eternity transpired as two trembling hands came together over an invisible chasm of space and time. The moment their fingertips connected, something blossomed in the centre of his chest, and a warmth spread throughout his body.

Calm

Peace

Tranquility

He focused on each of these aspects in the memory.

The flames in the beast ebbed away to a smolder; the wall of heat retreated and pulled away from his shoulders, dissipating like a ghost that was never welcome. Only a single glowing ember remained, left smoking in the dark abyss of his conscience.

Sweat coated his brow as he breathed into his palms. He leaned back onto the bed, its cool sheets brushing against the tips of his ears. Staring up at the ceiling, he proceeded to remove each glove and toss it lamely next to his torso.

You're so weak, Ren.

Disappointment, regret, longing, sadness, anger...they all trailed shortly after lingering in the past with Rey.

There had only been a handful of occurrences in the last three months where he had purposely conjured up a memory of her in order to focus. It was a last resort to calm his emotions, this new habit, but he loathed himself every instance he did, because it just brought him back to their current circumstances; being on the opposite sides of the war.

Tense muscles began to relax despite the chilled sweat on his brow, and his mind emptied of thoughts as he slowed his breathing. Ren drifted off into a light sleep, his fingers twitching at his sides as the biological cycle of rest began.

"Ben?" a voice echoed.

Though his eyes were closed, his head thrashed to the side at the sound.

"Ben, what is that?" the voice asked again. It was Leia speaking.

There she was! He could see her now. Her hair was down today, in a single long braid, and her hands clasped in front of her torso. Her burgundy dress was minimal, yet regal, and accentuated by a glittering necklace that was strung close to her collar.

"It's Uncle Luke's lightsaber..." He answered. It was floating between his hands as he studied it.

She nodded, and he saw her face take on the diplomatic expression she wore so often. Lips pressed tightly, she took a seat next to him on the bench.

"He has chosen to teach you?"

"He didn't choose me," he rolled his eyes. "At your behest, he begrudgingly agreed to let me learn."

Leia stiffened, sitting up straight and proper.

"Ben, I know Luke is sometimes easy to misread but-"

Ben cut her off. "Look, I'm going...ok? You and dad can continue to do all the things you do, and now you really won't have to worry about me being alone."

Silence.

He plucked the lightsaber out of the air and looked at his mother; tears were streaming down her face, and there was much regret in her eyes.

It was bad enough when his father made her cry, but he couldn't stand himself when he was the cause also.

A blaring call on his comlink startled him out of the dream. Slightly disorientated, he sat up slowly, taking a couple moments to recollect himself.

He picked up his comlink and opened it.

"Supreme Leader Ren," Armitage Hux clipped, "we've received some intel on the rebels."

"And?"

"Sir," his annoyance flickered over the channel, "it's best we summon a meeting".

"You have one standard hour, no later" he ordered.

"Of course, sir" Hux answered.

Ren closed the link and tossed it next to the gloves, sighing as he stood from the bed.

He loathed Armitage's meetings, but news of the rebels actually sounded worthwhile this time.