Force Destiny

The Rammaghon

Rey stumbled into her temple room, dropping most of her belongings directly inside the threshold. She felt as if a tension, like a breath she had never exhaled, was finally released when she had physical proof of her bondmate being alive. Ben is okay. He really is okay. She clutched Luke's text to her chest, collapsing onto the stone slab that was her bed. With a sigh, she dropped her head and released the tears she was withholding.

Much to her dismay, but not to her surprise, the Force chose that vulnerable moment to connect her to the man on her mind. The buzzing in her ears faded as a solid form materialized beside her on the bed. She desperately tried to dry her eyes with the heels of her hands, but the tears were unrelenting. Her attempts to suppress her tears only proved to further deteriorate her state into hiccuping sobs. She was too weary to scramble away from his warmth, too exhausted to fight. She placed her face in her hands in shame, waiting for his cruel comments. She was at her weakest; he could have broken her down. If their positions were reversed, she would have seized the opportunity.

He did not utter any of the cruel words she knew he was capable of. He recognized her vulnerability and stayed with her in silent support. Rey found herself inconsolable in her sobbing, because, in that moment, he was exactly what she needed him to be. This was the man from the hut, the man she wished he could be.

I'm sorry I'm here. Just pretend I'm someone else, someone who could actually bring you comfort, his strained, deep voice echoed in her mind.

At his miserable words, she found herself leaning against him, crying into the dark, thick material on his arm. He tensed at the contact but didn't pull away. Rey didn't know how long he sat there with her. It could have been two minutes, two hours, two days... stars could have been born and died and their energy reborn in the time she spent lost in his comforting warmth.

His presence, not any of the other people who wanted her to let them in, was what she needed in that moment. It terrified her, because she knew without warning he would be snapped back across the galaxy, too soon. The only residual testament to the events that unfolded between them would be a phantom sensation where his touch had been. Later, when she sat alone in her cold, lonely room, she knew their time together would seem like merely a flicker of a flame in the expanse of their existence. Would its significance be as inconsequential as well? Maybe it would be for him, but she felt more alive in one innocent touch of their fingers on Ahch-To than she had her entire life on Jakku. She could tell herself later it meant nothing, and perhaps she would to assuage her guilt, but as she did, she would know it was a lie.

Eventually, the sobs faded, the tears dried, and the only sound was the quiet inhale and exhale of their slow, deep breaths. The warmth she felt was not the pooling heat that she had felt recently at his touch. This was a beaming inside her, like sunlight within. The irony was not lost on her that Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader, master of the Knights of Ren, was – in that moment – offering her only his sympathy and companionship; no manipulation, deceit or malice. Just... Ben. The ever-changing vacillation between this man and the one who broke her heart was draining and confusing. But sitting there with him felt right after days of worry.

"Who hurt you?" His voice was gruff with sleep or disuse. It startled her; his baritone voice rumbling through their converged bodies just as her eyelids began to flutter with the heaviness of sleep.

"Why?" she quipped half-heartedly. "Would you kill him?"

"Would you want me to?" His voice was tinged with cynicism as he dropped his head to study his hands.

Rey knew she should separate herself from him; they were enemies after all, but he was warm and smelled like thermite, and she decided she had a newfound love for that smell. He was safe. She wasn't going to consider too deeply why that mattered to her. "No, Ben," she sighed "But since when do you care what I want?" He hummed, and she had the distinct feeling she was wrong, that he cared to know exactly what she thought. When she realized he had no intention of answering, she continued. "If I wanted him dead, I'd kill him myself."