The Brighter Dark (Kylo Ren X Reader)

Ch. 8- Out of the Shadows

Every so often, a moment imprints itself into the mind and becomes a memory. There is usually some significance to the moment which explains its need to become permanent; to be remembered. However, there are some times that moments decide to become memories even though there seems to be no definitive reason for them to do so.

To this day, you still weren't sure which of those situations applied to this particular memory.

You remembered that it was spring. The sun had been shining and Master Luke had indulged the padawans and younglings with a break from training to play in the meadow outside.

You remembered the vivid green of the grass, the moments that the breeze would pick up and you would feel the chill on your skin, but then it would fall away and be replaced with the warm kiss of sunlight again.

You also remembered that from the moment Ben Solo punched the Twi'leki boy to the second that Master Luke pulled them off each other, you couldn't seem to look away.

You weren't close with Ben by any means. You knew that he was Master Luke's nephew and he was very strong with the Force, but that was about it. He was a padawan while you were only a youngling; you may both be Jedi and live at the same temple, but your similarities stopped there.

You could recall that the Twi'lek seemed to have unkind words to say about Ben at every turn for as long as you had known him at the temple. You did not remember the words themselves, but you could remember his jealousy and his hatred. He was ushered away crying, nursing a broken nose and a black eye.

Luke had taken Ben aside to speak privately, prompting the rest of the padawans to disperse now that the excitement was over with. You, however, stayed. Eventually, the two of them had returned and parted ways, Luke heading off to see to the injured Twi'lek and Ben sitting down on the smooth stone steps of the temple.

Being a Force-sensitive child is a strange thing. Children, by nature, are more prone to trust. They have very little issue with blindly following the whims of others, whether they know to trust their word or not. So, Force-sensitive children trust the Force with such little effort that they do not even think to second-guess its pull.

You felt the anguish and the fear that rolled off of Ben Solo as he cried on those steps. You could feel, without question, that he felt crushed under a nameless, immense pressure, and the Force was calling you to him. You answered by ascending the steps and taking a seat next to the crying boy.

He did not see you sit down next to him, but he did feel you place your little hand just above his knee. His head jerked up, surprised at the sudden touch, but before he could shake your hand off his leg he felt something strange. His energy- all of the anger, the frustration, the fear, and the shame- were disappearing. It felt as if he were bleeding out, but emotions instead of blood. All that was left in their wake was a calm absence; the comfort of a blank canvas, of untouched snow. And he could breathe again, clearly, without a sob in his throat.

Curiously, he looked down at you, the little silent girl sitting next to him on the stairs, and his eyes widened as you began to cry.

It was not an ugly cry, nothing dramatic or overwhelming, simply the tears and sniffles of a child who had failed to meet the expectations that had been laid out for them. His tears. His failure. You had taken his burden and were bearing it for him.

"Hey, hey," he cooed, not quite sure how to comfort the little girl when he had no idea exactly how she had figured out to siphon his emotions in the first place. Still, he didn't want to watch a little girl cry. "It's okay, you...you didn't have to do that."