Sulit [ Ben Solo ]

IV.

CHAPTER FOUR
[ the dream! ]

Against her better judgement, she slept that night. Alone in her room, her cell, her eyes drooped and fell shut, sending her into a dream. And yet, it wasn't a dream at all.

Her eyes opened in her 'dream' and examined her surroundings. The hazy air was a purple colour, and everything felt of the Force. It was there, almost alive, thrumming in the air around her.

Through the haze she saw a tall, dark figure standing in the distance, looking around. They spotted each other, and began walking in each other's direction.
They were only a few feet away when she could finally see the figure's face.

It was him. Tall, dark and— extremely bare-chested. He only wore a pair of black pants to cover his bottom half. And her, she was still in the clothes she fell asleep in.

"You," she said, the word leaving her lips swiftly.

"You," he replied, his tone soft and surprised. Here, where he could look at her properly, he realized that she was decidedly the most stunning thing he'd ever seen.

"This isn't a dream." But they both knew that. This was the Force connecting them in sleep, creating a bridge between their minds. "You're here."

She reached her hand out toward him, urging him to touch it. Just to be sure that it was real, that he was really there. He hesitated a long time, making sure it wasn't a trick, then reached his hand out. Their fingertips touched, then his fingers trailed down to her palm, and they both snatched their hands away quickly, as if burned.

Images had flashed through her mind when their hands touched. Horrible, horrible images. The man before her, just a boy, laying asleep with her friend— Luke— standing above him, lightsaber raised to kill.

He tensed immediately, his eyes burning into her. "You're so cold," was all she said, her voice quiet. And it was true, he was ice cold. For a minute, she left who he was behind, who she was, and offered her hand again, palm facing upward. Tentatively, he laid his hand on hers, and she covered it with her opposite hand.

"Stars, your skin is colder than Hoth."

As those words left her mouth, she saw it again. The images. Luke's lightsaber raised to kill, and Kylo getting his own to defend himself. Only the boy Kylo had a blue lightsaber, not red. Kylo Ren had once been a Jedi Padawan, training under Luke Skywalker. And Luke had tried to kill him.

She knew it was true, the same way she knew that he was really there and it wasn't a dream. The Force surrounded everything about it, surrounded them.

She looked up at him and their eyes met, deep brown on violet, and they seemed to remember themselves simultaneously. His hand slipped out of hers and they each took a step back from each other.

"Why is the Force connecting us? You and I?" He asked. He was already trying to forget what had just happened.

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "I have no recollection of this sort of thing ever happening before."

She took a look around, but could see nothing through the haze. She let out a long sigh. "I suppose we won't be getting out of here before we wake," she said. There was a long pregnant pause as she trailed off, not meeting his eyes.

Then, in complete unison, they turned to one another and said, "Did you see—"

They halted, and Asteria finished. "When we touched hands, did you see anything?"

"Yes."

"What did you see?" She asked.

"My— my family."

"Your family?" She was confused, so confused, until— "You're Han and Leia's son. Ben."

"That name no longer holds meaning for me. Neither do they."

"Did you really not know my name?" She then asked, confused and a little hurt. "They never spoke of me?"

"They told me you were confined to your planet and never left. I didn't believe it was you."

"What did you see, Ben?" She liked to have a real name to call him. Her voice was soft as her tongue curled around the single syllable, and she liked it. Even if she would never admit it.

"My grandfather saving your life. Han Solo and you in his ship. You're in the co-pilot's seat there. Leia with you on a Rebel base, teasing Luke. And— my grandmother. In pain." He looked confused at this. "All of the others were happy. But she. . . she was so hurt. So scared. You were there, holding her while she cried."

"Anakin slaughtered younglings when he turned," she said, speaking softly. "Padmé didn't want to believe it, but, she knew it was true. She cried for so long. She didn't want to believe that he was gone. Neither did I. I held her that night, hours before she died. Before he killed her. Some of my most prominent memories of her are of pain."

"He killed her." It wasn't phrased as a question, but she elaborated still.

"She believed him gone forever, and died in childbirth. There was nothing physically wrong, but in his anger, his rage, he broke her heart. She died from it."

"Of a broken heart?"

"She loved him fiercely. More than I've seen anyone love anything. So much that it killed her."

"You were alive then, and you're alive now, but you look—"

"Your age? I am," she said. "And I will be for a long time. All on my planet are immortal, you see. We can be killed by others, but not by our own bodies. Not of old age. Not of hunger." She paused for a moment to gauge his reaction, but he gave none. He was cold as ever. "A few have gone from severe sickness, but they were the weaker ones, the old and the young."

"Who are you?" He asked for the hundredth time, almost exasperated.

"I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours," she bargained. "Because what I saw. . . I have to have an explanation. A story."

A strange look overtook his face. "What?" She asked, brow furrowing.

"You didn't ask to be released. To go back to the Resistance."

"I'm exactly where I need to be, Ben Solo." The name irritated him, she knew, and yet a small part of him, the part that was still drawn to the light, liked it. "Besides, they'll come for me."

"How do you know that?"

"I told them not to." She almost smiled. "Your family, historically, is exceedingly stubborn, you see. Leia would send the whole fleet after me, if she could."

"I could kill you," he suggested. "It would save her the trouble."

"Oh, but then you'd never get to hear about your grandparents. About Anakin. And you'd never know who I really am."

"A story for a story." He still sounded like he didn't believe her.

"Yes," she said. "And as mine is considerably longer than yours, it's more than fair. Tomorrow night, I'll tell you."

"Tomorrow."

"Assuming we're brought back here, yes. I won't tell you anything strapped to that thing."

"We both know you could have gotten out of that thing whenever you wanted." The way that he looked at her made her shiver.

The corner of her mouth quirked up into a smirk. "Touché."

The air around them started to ripple, and she knew it was over. She opened her mouth to say something to him, but he was gone.