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Chapter Text

Rey’s padded boots barely make a sound on the marble floor, and yet several heads turn to look at her walking beside Luke Skywalker. Their steps are silent but swift, betraying the urgency of the call that had the two of them rushing from halfway across the galaxy.

She senses curiosity, and maybe a little fear, hidden behind the metal helmets of the guards stationed at the columns along the long hall. It is a grand structure this estate she is in—all ornate high ceilings and frescos, tall windows and marble columns. It makes the scavenger in her, the one that has followed her throughout the years of training in Luke’s academy, wince at the waste of credits on such a basic need as a roof over one’s head.

She steals a quick look at her Master. His clear, blue eyes are shadowed by a frown. The hood that’s draped over his head hides the rest of his tense features from curious eyes. She tries to match his long strides as best as she can, the whisper of their plain, beige robes against the polished floor being the only sound that betrays their presence.

Doors are parted for them at the end of the hall, revealing a large chamber filled in morning light streaming through the windows. Some kind of a formal office or greeting room, from what Rey can tell. In the middle of it stands an older woman in Senator’s robes, who quickly turns at the sound of their entry. Next to her a golden droid whirls as well, tilting its head in acknowledgment.

“Master Luke! It is such a relief to see you so soon after the incident! Princess… Senator Organa, I mean… was just telling me how much she has been looking forward to seeing you and the Jedi that will—”

A hand is raised in front of the droid, silencing it.

“Not now Threepio,” the woman says.

Luke’s twin sister, no doubt. They have no resemblance physically, whatsoever—but Rey can’t deny the unmistakable similarity in Force signature that the woman exudes.

She approaches Luke in a hurry, and they grasp each other’s forearms. “I'm so glad you could make it on such short notice,” she says, looking up at him worriedly.  “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“How’s Ben?”

“Lucky to be alive.”

“Was he hurt?”

“Not a scratch. But Luke…”

He stares at her, waiting.

“He used the Force,” she says, her voice nearly a whisper. “The Dark Side.”

Rey watches as her Master clenches his jaw and tightens his grip on his sister.

“We always knew it was there, Leia. Let’s be grateful he’s alive. Rey and I are here to help.”

Senator Organa turns to greet her, extending her hand. “Thank you for agreeing to this,” she says warmly.

Rey notices her brown intelligent eyes, so captivating in their intensity. She’s nearly a head shorter than Rey, but it feels as if she’s towering over her. Her hair is mostly grey, twisted in an intricate braid around her head, and held in place by golden pins that shine in the sunlight. She looks as elegant as any senator—or princess—should.

Rey clamps down the urge to run her hand through her own stringy hair, still peppered in Tatooine’s sand.

“It’s an honor, Senator,” she says, wrapping her calloused fingers around the older woman’s soft hand. “I’ll do my best to keep him safe.”

Senator Organa smiles warily. “I believe you... But I also know it won't be easy working with my son. Please, try not to be—”

Incoming footfall and the rustling of heavy fabric interrupt the Senator’s next words, as a man draped in Coruscant’s black and purple politician’s robes stalks into the room, tugging on his leather gloves. He is tall. Much taller than Rey remembers. And broad.

The man’s initial stormy stride subsides as he sees who is in the room, and comes to a gradual stop.

“Luke.” His deep voice reverberates from the marble walls.

“Hello, Ben.”

The man doesn’t greet back. Rey can feel the intensity of his dark eyes crawl up her spine as he stares at her Master.

So this is Ben Solo...

Rey already regrets agreeing to be his protector. Dealing with spoiled, arrogant politicians is not her forte. She’ll probably end up running her own blade through him, and spare the assassin the inconvenience of another attempt on his life.

She stifles a snort.

And then those dark eyes are upon her.

“Is she the Jedi?”

“Ben,” Senator Organa steps in. “You said you would cooperate.”

“I don’t need their protection, mother. I have my own men,” he grits at her.

“Who are, obviously, not equipped to deal with a situation such as this! Ben… please... It was a Force-wielder you were up against. We’ll need all the help we can get.”

He tightens his lips as he studies Rey from the tips of her brown worn-out boots to the last strand of hair sticking out from her three buns. She sees the disdain in his features.

“Of all the padawans in your precious academy, Uncle Luke, you decided to bring a woman to my aid.”

Rey stiffens at his comment and narrows her eyes, but chooses to keep her mouth shut. Yes, it seems she will need every ounce of training she’s had till now to keep her cool around this man.

“Rey is not a padawan. She is a Jedi," her Master points out. "And the best one I have too. I would advise you not to underestimate her.”

Luke’s intervention causes his nephew to chuckle coldly. “You are misreading my apprehension, Master Skywalker. I don’t have a problem with my bodyguard being a female. But my betrothed will.”

“Hannah is logical," Senator Organa urges. "She’ll understand your life is far more important than a few ancient traditions of her world.”

“Will she, mother?” he turns to her. “Or will all attempts at negotiation with her world and its people be blown to smithereens because of your stubborn need to protect me?”

Rey feels his heavy gaze on her again. “This is a mistake,” he says, taking a step back. “I want another Jedi.”

Luke huffs, exasperated, while Senator Organa shakes her head dejectedly.

“You’re not getting another Jedi,” Rey’s clear voice rings in the vast room for the first time in his presence. She stares steadily into his dark eyes as his features turn into stone. He seems to be very aggravated by her interference. Rey could care less. “Luke and I have gone to great lengths to reach you so soon after the attempt. The way I see it, you either accept my help or you don’t. We don’t intend to waste any more of our time.”

For an endless moment, he remains still as a statue, studying her while Rey holds her breath. He’s nothing like the boy she remembers, she manages to think briefly, and wonders if he has any recollection of her. It doesn’t seem to be that way, Rey decides, when he abruptly breaks eye contact, turns around, and stalks towards the exit, a whirlwind of black garments following his gait.

Rey blinks, shoving the stinging of his rejection aside. No matter the years, it is not a sentiment she has come to terms with. Many things in her childhood have left an ugly scar on her psyche.

He halts at the doors—

And turns his sharp profile over his shoulder without sparing her a single glance. “Will you be gracing me with your company, Jedi? Or do I need to extend a formal invitation?”

Rey quickly reins in her dumbfounded expression. Much quicker than Luke and his sister do, who stare at him with wide eyes.

She straightens her back, and brushes her fingers on the edge of her saberstaff perched on her back. Its presence is that of a comforting friend.

He resumes his exit while Rey hurries to follow his retreating back. She remains two steps behind him as he makes his way down the long hall and through the heavy durasteel gate. A blinding, sunny day receives them, along with a half dozen guards who flank their side as they head towards a ship prepping for take-off.

“Where are we headed?” she asks. He doesn’t seem to have heard what she said as he continues his hurried pace on the landing bay. That, or he chooses to ignore her. Rey believes it’s the latter, but pretends it’s the first, as she opens her mouth to repeat the question a little louder.

“Hosnian Prime,” he informs her flatly, not bothering to look at her. He walks up the ramp of his sleek ship, barely nodding at the pilot saluting him.

Rey notices the crew stiffen upon his entry, or scurry to get out of his way as he stalks further inside. A man, around her age, approaches him, offering a datapad.

“Our guest?” he asks, glancing at her.

“My personal Jedi,” he answers in a tone that is borderline sarcastic. Rey presses her lips in a thin line to remain silent. “She’ll be accompanying me to my affairs indefinitely. Find her a seat,” he orders before disappearing behind a set of whooshing doors. A guard comes to stand in front of them, clutching at his armed belt, and signaling to Rey not to approach any further.

It all happens so fast that it leaves her reeling.

What an infuriating man!

Rey stands in the middle of the corridor with clenched fists, trying but failing to contain her aggravation. Crew members bump into her, or glance warily in her direction as they pass by in their hurried preparation for take-off, when a light tap on the shoulder has her whirling around to face her newest assailant. It’s the man who had offered Ben Solo the datapad. His smile is friendly as he raises his hand in the direction of one of the corridors.

"This way please," he says politely. "We have prepared a room for you."

Thank the gods... Rey nearly sighs in relief.

“Is he always this irritable?” she can’t help but ask as she falls into step next to him.

“I'd say this is his normal self.”

"Ah." Great. "I see..."

The young man glances at her amused from what she can sense. “The first time in his presence is always a bit of a challenge. You’ll get used to him.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

He lets out a warm laugh to her surprise, pausing briefly to introduce himself. “I’m Jeff Hudson, by the way. His Public Relations manager. Welcome aboard. And these," he lifts his hand again towards another set of doors, "are your quarters where you can rest and freshen up. We’ll be leaving Coruscant shortly.”

“Thank you,” Rey smiles content.

He escorts her to the doors and sets his hand on a panel to unlock them. They slide open with a soft woosh, revealing a simple but comfortable-looking room before he hands her the codes and bids her a good rest.

Rey hesitates. “Mr. Hudson?”

“Yes?”

“What is Mr. Solo’s position? I mean—what is it that he does exactly?”

He blinks a little surprised at her question, making her feel as if she’s been living under a rock all her life.

“Well… He’s the Governor of Coruscant, my lady. And quite possibly the next High Chancellor of the New Republic in the upcoming elections—despite his young age. I figured you were aware…”

“Of course! Right.” She nods enthusiastically.

Gods.

She prays he doesn’t find out about this.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Hudson,” she adds quickly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to roam around the ship a bit first. Get a feel of things before resting.”

“By all means. Senator Organa has directed me to provide you with anything you might need. I’ll make sure you have unlimited access to all areas.”

He bows curtly and departs, leaving Rey to stand alone again. She feels the ship vibrate smoothly as its thrusters lift it in the air. She glances one last time at the Governor’s doors still shut like a clam, with the guard standing rigidly in front of them.

She shakes her head and decides to head towards the cockpit first. Hitting hyperspace is her favorite part of space travel, and she has to somehow lift her spirits after that horrendous introduction to one of the galaxy's most powerful leaders.

No wonder Luke's older students disappeared upon the mention of Ben Solo.

Skywalker should have better prepared her for his nephew’s foul personality, or at least, given her the choice to decline the assignment.

His best Jedi, my ass.

Rey huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of her face as she sets foot in the cockpit. The sleek black surfaces, and latest tech in hyperspace navigation, easily distract her from her previous thoughts. Perhaps, if the captain allowed her to ease the ship out of the atmosphere then this whole ordeal wouldn't be so bad.

Rey frowns, resting her hand on the smooth metal of the cockpit's entrance.

She doubts that, as well.

Chapter Text

It is a large ship.

Considering the fact that it’s at the disposal of just one man.

Rey has already roamed the main corridor and its branches. She has examined the cockpit twice, because she particularly enjoys watching the bright blue swivels of hyperspace. She has visited the common room and kitchenette, and is currently studying the hyperdrive engine with wide eyes because—holy bantha crap— it is a Class X model, which from what little Rey knows, is only experimental. They will reach Hosnian Prime in less than one standard rotation, roughly estimated.

Clearly, the Governor has expensive taste.

Along with a streak of extravagance, judging from the state-of-the-art design of the ship—even if it's only meant for work travels. The mechanic in the engine room has spent half an hour describing to her the ship’s new hull, consisting of a metal alloy that allows it to withstand atmospheric pressure while at lightspeed. In other words, this damn ship can jump into hyperspace while it’s still planet bound.

Rey's jaw had dropped at the information.

Who would be crazy enough to come up with such an idea?

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

She turns to look at Jeff Hudson, standing on her side with his eyes fixed on the grand technological achievement before them. He glances at her with a light smile warming his face. His very friendly, and rather handsome face.

“I had no idea there was an actual model out. It must cut travel time to what? One-fifth of a standard—”

“—Class 1 model. No. It’s actually down to one-tenth.”

Rey lets out a low whistle. “Unbelievable.”

“Not really. It’s right in front of us,” he chuckles amicably.

Rey can’t help but smile a little too. Just a small curl of her lips. Jeff is… nice.

“I’m Rey,” she says, offering her hand to him. He clasps it carefully but with firmness. A good handshake. “I forgot to introduce myself earlier. Too distracted by the Governor’s … um… brisk manners.”

He laughs, and she notices that he has green eyes— bright and good-natured, and with a really nice shade of gold in them.

“I knew your name. All details were already sent to me.”

She tilts her head in curiosity. The Governor should have already known about her then.

Jeff’s smile falters and starts to dissolve.

Crap.

Rey knows she’s not the most courteous of people, but she didn’t mean to intimidate him in any way. Maybe she should have given him a wider smile. It's too late now, though, because the man before her has grown completely stiff, his smile disappearing altogether.

And suddenly Rey knows why.

She chides herself for being so distracted that she didn’t notice the presence looming behind her. But the Force signature is expertly cloaked for someone who has undergone barely any training.

“You’re not in your room,” a deep voice rumbles.

She turns slowly, raising her gaze to the Governor's pale, angular features, set tightly in irritation. Gods, does he have to be so... ill-tempered all the time?

“I’m not tired.”

“I’ve been searching for you.”

“I was exploring your ship.”

His cold, black eyes roam her face. “What’s the use of having a personal bodyguard if I can’t find them when I’m in need of them?”

Rey tries to come up with an excuse for his snide comment but realizes there is none. The man has a point.

He continues to look down at her, waiting for an answer while she tries to keep her gaze steady, not wanting to give him the full satisfaction of his victory.

He looks tired, she can’t help but notice standing this close to him. The circles under his eyes are almost as dark as his gaze.

“I assure you, it won’t happen again,” she relents.

“Good. See that it doesn’t.”

He switches to Jeff, who has kept completely silent throughout their whole interaction—probably in some kind of self-preserving mechanism.

“Get her a commlink. I won’t have time to go searching for her when the next attempt on my life takes place.”

“Immediately, Mr. Solo.”

He steps back and turns to leave. Rey can’t believe how relieved she feels to have his crowding presence back away from her, at last. His gait clanks heavily on the metal platform, and his black robes completely absorb the blue light that comes from the humming hyperdrive as he strides toward the exit. He reminds her of a black hole. A very conceited, egotistical, and rude black hole that thrives on devouring all pleasantness from its surroundings.

The engine room doors swoosh open, allowing the light from the corridor to fall inside. He pauses, a stark shadow against the light, and turns his profile over his shoulder again, working his jaw.

“He wants you to follow him,” Jeff mumbles behind her.

Oh, for Force’s sake.

Rey wants to roll her eyes. There’s nothing wrong with using actual words to state one’s wish. She can gauge intentions and catch surface thoughts—but she can’t flat-out read minds.

He resumes his heavy pace, ebony cloak rippling down his body, as Rey hurries to catch up with him. He doesn’t pay her much heed as he leads the way down the long, charcoal corridor to another pair of automated doors. A small conference room lies behind them, and several heads turn to look as he strolls inside without breaking stride.

It seems like they are late, judging from the restlessness in the room. Obviously because of her.

Rey can’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

He doesn’t apologize, or make any kind of comment concerning the reasons they are late. He simply takes his seat at the head of the table. Rey scans the room, and decides to stand by the large transparisteel window with its streaks of hyperspace running by, a few paces to the Governor’s side. He powers up a holoprojector on the middle of the polished table, and is about to begin to speak when he seems to reconsider—since all eyes are curiously drawn to Rey.

She must stick out like a sore thumb among all the greys and blacks and polished metal surfaces of this immaculate modern ship. Rey stands completely still in her beige and brown robes—dusted in sand and with hems dipped in mud—trying her best to keep from fidgeting.

He turns slightly in his seat to face her, but avoids looking directly at her. He lifts a hand in introduction.

“This is...” The Governor trails off expectantly.

Stars. Has he really not read her file at all?

“Rey Jakku,” she fills in promptly. He finally glances at her, with a spark of curiosity perhaps in his dark eyes—but it doesn’t last long, and by the time he turns around again, Rey’s not even sure it happened.

“She’s the Jedi we have all been expecting,” he informs his audience. They all nod politely, no doubt their curiosity being satisfied, at last.

He actually takes the time to introduce his few associates to her. Rey is barely able to get a feel of them as he flies over their names and positions. Some offer their hand to her, others bow lightly in respect. It’s over before she realizes, and the next thing she knows he’s gesturing to a slender woman next to him with purple hair—whose name Rey has already forgotten, but was introduced as being the Minister of Foreign Affairs—to begin.

“Cantonica is complaining of increased incidents of piracy in their sector, most probably from the Guavian Death gang.”

“I thought it had been dismantled by the Hutt cartel.”

“That’s what we all thought, but apparently Cantonica believes otherwise.”

“Is there any proof?”

“Hardly.”

He leans back in his chair, rapping his fingers on the obsidian surface of the table for a few moments.

“We have to check into it. Amilyn, what do you propose?”

She goes into an elaborate description of a plan that was in the making, and Rey tunes off the conversation, concentrating instead on skimming surface thoughts and emotions in the room. Apart from a little fear and dislike, no other malicious thoughts are directed towards the Governor. She watches him rake his hand through his long, black hair on a few occasions.

Rey glances back to the blue lights passing by the window, feeling bored. On the verge of falling asleep being more like it. The monotonous voice of a man talking about a failed stock market in some world within the Middle Rim, and the repercussions it could have on Coruscant’s vast banking system spread throughout the galaxy is not exactly thrilling. A few stifled yawns are passed around, and she catches the Governor rubbing his eyes.

He looks as if he hasn’t slept in ages.

“Your Corellian adversary has released information regarding Han Solo and his smuggling of Rathtars to King Prana,” the woman with the purple hair states, sounding a little miffed.

Uncomfortable silence stretches at the table as everyone waits with bated breath for their Governor’s reaction.

Rey is close enough to catch a mutter fall from him, as he rubs circles on his temple with eyes shut. Somebody coughs.

He finally turns to Jeff, who has been sitting quietly across the conference table this whole time.

“Get in contact with his assistant, and inform them that if the Prime Minister doesn’t release a statement about the information concerning my father being false, his most recent images in Canto Bight will be released to the press. He’ll know which ones I mean.”

Jeff hesitates, but nods in acceptance. “Yes, sir.”

Rey’s curiosity spikes as she catches an image of a roguish-looking man kneeling in front of a young girl who has her hair pulled back in three buns. She senses it came from the Governor. She immediately chases after the image, dipping invisible fingers into his very well-guarded mind. A brush, really. Just to see if—

The Governor stiffens. A swirl of his seat, and she finds him sending her the most scathing glare in existence.

Rey flinches, tearing away from his surface thoughts.

“You will not do that. Ever. Again,” he snarls.

Rey feels as if she's been caught cheating on her Academy exams. She blinks, startled for a split second, but tries not to let any other emotions seep into her features. She stares steadily back at him, their gazes locked together in some sort of a duel of wills.

He’s the one to break away first, returning to the meeting with a shadow across his face, while Rey returns her attention to the transparisteel window once again. The ship has dropped out of hyperspace, she notices, and the shimmering vastness is a good place to rest her troubled thoughts. She tries to ignore the tingling sensation that has spread through her body after coming in contact with the Governor's mind.

The meeting drags on, and he has not signaled her dismissal. So, Rey stands dutifully throughout it, with feet spread wide and hands locked behind her back.

When it finally comes to an end, and everyone files out, the Governor comes to stand by the window a few paces away from her.

The lights dim in the conference room, and whatever little light filters through the window accentuates the sharp angles of his face. He’s staring at the looming form of a glittering planet with his jaw clenched, completely ignoring her presence.

Rey's stomach begins to grumble. She decides to take her leave, as well.

“Not you,” he says.

She pauses and looks back to where he's standing. The Governor’s gaze is trained on her. His black hair is tousled, with a dark strand falling in his line of vision—doing nothing to hide the anger simmering in his eyes.

“If I catch you searching my thoughts again, I will have you exiled to the Outer Rim for the remainder of your days. And not even Skywalker will be able to help you,” he promises through clenched teeth. “Henceforth, you will stay out of my way, and out of my mind.”

Rey's jaw drops. His reaction is absurd for such a small, innocent scan of his thoughts. “You can't be serious!”

“I'm dead serious.”

“I can’t protect you if you don’t allow me near you!”

“You just invaded my mind. I should have you thrown in a cell.”

She narrows her eyes at him as anger starts to boil in her chest. He’s twisting things around, and their limited interactions are spiraling out of her control in a way she never saw coming.

“Why don’t you then? It will save me the trouble of putting my life at stake for you!”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not! This is what I’m supposed to be here for.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

She bites her lip in an effort to stop herself from saying something insulant in his face. She fails spectacularly.

“Luke believes you’re worth saving—for some peculiar reason that is beyond me. You are conceited and arrogant, and I wouldn’t have spent a moment of my time on you under different circumstances,” she grits out, “but I plan on keeping my promise to him. And to your mother.”

“Skywalker is a disappointment. He doesn’t live up to the legend he’s built himself to be. You’re wasting your life in his Academy.”

Rey crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“Look who’s mingling now.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, but he does take those few steps separating them. She braces herself for his attack.

“You have neglected your new duties, you have searched my mind against my will, and have insulted me in the worst possible way aboard my own ship. Why should I trust you?”

“Because it is my duty to—”

“You don’t seriously expect me to believe Skywalker’s romantic convictions of what a Jedi is meant to be. They are delusions.”

“They are very much real!” she states firmly, looking directly at him. His eyes gleam against his drawn, pale face. 

The Governor tilts his head as if toying with her, and leans in a little closer. Rey feels his breath on her face, minty, mixed with a pleasant muskier scent that must come from his clothes.

“Will you do it? Will you actually risk your life to save mine, Jedi?” he asks, voice low and eerily calm. It settles strangely in her stomach, causing it to sink all the way down to her knees. He lingers too close for comfort, eyes boring into hers, sharp enough to sear through her mind if provoked. 

Something cold and unpleasant brushes her thoughts—

Rey pulls away with a thudding heart, scrambling to raise her walls. She finds herself able to breathe again once a few paces are between them, making a mental note never to underestimate this man again. He is cunning, powerful, and ruthless, in a way she has never dealt with before.

And Dark.

So Dark. Despite his supposed lack of training.

The Governor straightens his back, and turns to look out the window again, clasping his hands behind his back. His black-clad form blends with the darkness of space and the shadows of the room.

“You are dismissed,” he states plainly.

Rey can’t leave fast enough.

Chapter Text

Rey is becoming acquainted with the Governor’s back rather well.

It is broad, muscular, and slightly hunched at the shoulders as if his height needs to be reined in. Or—because he’s always so ready to launch an attack at any of his staff who displeases him, or fails to get out of his way fast enough—it has become part of his stature. Rey has trouble deciding.

A Mandalorian is leading their party, heavily armored, and with his very deadly weapons on full display. She can’t help but wonder why her presence is even needed. Obviously, the Governor has gone to great lengths to keep himself from being assassinated. Either way, Rey stays consistently two paces behind the Governor and to his right, making sure not to glimpse at any thoughts drifting from his stormy mind—his very dark, cloudy, and thundering mind. Ignoring such a maelstrom in her immediate periphery is like sailing a boat on the outskirts of a hurricane. Any wrong move, and she’ll be right in the eye of it.

She raises her eyes to look at the sky as their party goes up the wide steps of the Senate, the guards flanking their sides not breaking rank by a single hair. It too is overcast—grey clouds heavy with the promise of rain.

She already misses Tatooine, and it's not even mid-morning yet.

The entrance hall is packed with people. A cacophony of voices resonates inside the grand building in anticipation of the upcoming assembly, as delegates, senators, and leaders from all over the galaxy have gathered here today with an entourage of their own following in step. The Mandalorian easily cuts through the crowd, parting it like the sea, and giving their party a wide enough berth. It seems the Governor of Coruscant is a well-respected man, and from what Rey senses, also quite feared. She scans for surface thoughts as they pass through, her mind spreading as wide as possible in an effort to grasp any mal intents towards the Governor.

She realizes, to her chagrin, there are plenty.

Rey’s attention returns to the heavy, black cloak rippling in front of her. It shimmers lightly under the lights of the grand hall, and matches perfectly the Governor’s black, thick hair, which is carefully combed and impressively set in glossy waves to his shoulders.

Rey frowns.

She hadn’t been able to remove all the sand from her own hair last night, despite the long bath she had taken in her own private fresher. She must still look like a desert rat in his eyes. Even though, she did pick a white tunic to wear, the one she had bought at a flea market last year in Correlia, and a pair of leggings that were clean—the cleanest ones she owned, at least. Her cloak was not in the best of conditions, as dirt covered a good part of the rough wool, so she decided to skip wearing it altogether. She doubts it would have rippled as attractively in comparison to the Governor’s. More likely it would have left a trail of mud flakes in her wake.

Suddenly, the Governor turns his head over his right shoulder and looks pointedly at her.

Rey darts her eyes to the side mortified, pretending to study a series of windows and balconies they are currently walking by. She really hopes none of her thoughts have slipped out. Because if that is the case, she can might as well resign now, and save herself the trouble of future humiliation and chastisement. She glances in the direction of the Governor with burning cheeks, but luckily he has already turned away.

Their march down the long hall continues with no end in sight. 

Rays of sun have broken through the heavy sky, falling in radiant beams through the windows and forming bright patches of light on the thick burgundy carpet. The Governor passes like a shadow under them without paying any heed to their warmth. But Rey can’t resist. She has missed the sun too much, and it has only been a day. She pauses under one of the rays and lets it seep into her skin, a homecoming of sorts that feels literally divine. Her eyes close while she stands completely still, drinking in its warmth and storing it deep inside, a source of energy for all the difficulties that are yet to come. Everything gets shut out—the dissonant voices, the bustling crowd, the clanking of armor, but most of all, the Governor’s opaque presence.

There is only her and the Light. It’s the most soothing sensation she could have hoped for in this barren new world.

Only it can’t last forever—

Murmurs are drifting to her ears now, as Rey reluctantly returns to reality. Meditation will have to wait for later.

She opens her eyes, feeling disoriented.

And the first thing she sees is the Governor, standing a few paces away, body half-turned and looking at her as if he has been struck by lightning. The look on his face would have been considered comical if it belonged to anyone else. She scurries to come and stand in her designated spot in back of him, while he watches her every hurried step of the way. There’s an inscrutable expression on his face, that makes her dread to find out what thoughts lie behind.

“Are you done?”

“Yes,” she answers. No reason to poke at the beast.

“May I return to my duties and join the assembly now?”

Ha. Funny. “Yes.”

“Should I worry about losing your valuable presence in the crowd again?”

Rey scoffs. What a jerk. “I’ll find you. You’re hard to miss. No need to be so derisive.”

“It is a large building. Perhaps it would be best if you—”

She cuts him off with an arch of her eyebrow. “I use the Force to find my way around any place in this galaxy, Governor. Could we please continue?” She might have come off as slightly obnoxious, but he hasn’t been the most courteous of people either.

He presses his lips together, most probably trying to swallow some scathing comeback. Her eyes never waver from his.

The Governor shifts to the side, raising his gloved hand for Rey to lead the way. A cruel smirk plays on his lips, and his eyes glint with irritation.

“After you… my lady.”

Oh, no— no, no, no …

“Surely, you don’t mean for me to—” she trails off at his stony expression. “But I don’t even know which level holds Coruscant’s—”

“Why don’t you use the Force to find the way then? Surely a building does not compare to a galaxy.”

Rey scowls. She’s already running out of adjectives to describe him.

She straightens her back, determined not to create any more of a scene. If he wants to be a bloody idiot about this, it’s fine by her. She hadn’t meditated for more than a few seconds, anyway, so there's no reason for him to be hell-bent on making her life so complicated. She narrows her eyes as she brushes past him, her bare shoulder barely coming in contact with the medals of distinction pinned on his chest. She ignores his looming presence and moves on ahead, all the while battling with herself whether she should lead them all to a fresher just to spite him. 

She decides against it.

It takes a couple of wrong turns before the Mandalorian sets his armored hand on her shoulder and signals for her to let him go first. She immediately relents, falling back to her original place behind the Governor’s right shoulder. The man never spares her a glance.

They reach a long corridor with multiple narrow doors on one side. The Mandalorian stops in front of one, opens it, and stands to the side with arms crossed in front of his chest. The Governor passes through, leaving the door open. Rey hesitates, glancing at the armored man questioningly. He nods in his distinctive helmet for her to go through as well.

An enormous dark amphitheater stretches out before her. It’s filled from floor to ceiling with hundreds of pods, the vast majority of them illuminated, and having occupants which range from humanoids to alien species Rey has never seen before. The Governor greets Amilyn Holdo already seated in their pod amicably enough, and nods curtly to one of his assistants. Rey stares at the imposing assembly of the New Republic feeling very overwhelmed. How is she supposed to protect the Governor against an attack in such a place? It’s too kriffing crowded. Anyone could make an attempt on his life, and she wouldn’t even see it coming.

Rey's chest clenches with dread.

A large, warm hand touches the small of her back, all of a sudden, nearly startling her out of her boots. The Governor is standing next to her, and she realizes—dumbstruck— that it’s his hand she feels through the rough fabric of her clothes. He’s looking at her, but Rey can’t see his face in the shadows of the pod.

“You will sit behind me,” he rumbles softly, and for some reason, she finds his composure very comforting. “Stay focused,” he urges as if he has sensed her panicking thoughts.

Rey nods, as his hand falls from her back, leaving behind an odd sensation of emptiness. He takes a seat in the middle of the pod, his dark robes folding richly on his sides.

She finds it hard to drag her eyes away from his dark outline.

A pod currently hovers in the middle of the Senate, and its spokesman is in the middle of giving a passionate speech, gesturing wildly with his four arms. It’s in a foreign language, so Rey notices the Governor putting on an earpiece. There’s a constant murmur in the Senate, and the occasional disruption by delegates voicing an opposition. Soon enough another pod takes its place—and so on and so forth. As time goes by, Rey finds herself able to filter out the insignificant thoughts in her surroundings, focusing more on the ones directed toward the Governor. But they are fleeting and vague, and nothing comes out of them in the end.

To Rey's great relief, a short recess eventually follows.

A droid rolls inside, setting a tray with multiple snacks and refreshments in the middle of the pod, and causing her stomach to grumble in enthusiasm. She waits for the Governor to be the first to dig in— proudly remembering her manners— but he doesn't seem to be particularly interested in food. He steps off the pod and starts a conversation with a Senator from Chandrila in the corridor instead.

“No need to wait for Ben,” Minister Holdo comments with a smile. “He’ll get so engrossed in his talk with the Senator that he’ll forget to eat all together. Don’t be shy. Serve yourself.”

Rey is never shy when it comes to food.

She has eaten two sandwiches and is on her fifth pastry when she notices the Governor’s eyes on her. She quickly licks at the rich cream on her upper lip, and wipes away the fruit glaze that’s stuck on her chin. Of course, she’d fall victim to her insatiable stomach while she's meant to be guarding one of the most powerful leaders of the kriffing galaxy! 

She would be surprised if he didn't twist this against her.

The Governor gestures his goodbyes to the Senator and returns to his seat. Rey feels his gaze still on her as she zealously wipes at a stain on her leggings. Long, slender fingers come into view, picking a small snack garnished with black caviar from the top of the tray. His ungloved fingers.

“I highly doubt the Noonian sector will come to any kind of agreement with the Rodians about the hyperspace lanes,” Holdo comments casually as she stares out with an arm perched on the pod's ledge.

The Governor hums around his bite, chewing slowly as he contemplates his answer. His dark eyes fall on her again, and are quickly averted. Rey wonders if she has any of the red glaze left on her chin, and wipes at it as discreetly as possible.

“The Rodians have no choice,” he says after swallowing. “They’ll have to eventually share the lanes with the rest of the sector, since the mineral planets will be further exploited.”

“The Rodian was bluffing,” Rey can’t help but comment. She had sensed the species’ attempt to manipulate the Senate hearing to its benefit.

The Governor reaches for a pastry. The ones with the fruit glaze and cream. “I agree,” he says, much to her surprise. He bites into it and chews, savoring its taste, and making Rey feel as if she’s missing something crucial.

“Tell me, Jedi,” he says eventually, as he sucks the cream from the tip of his thumb. “Are any kind of indulgences allowed in Luke’s Academy besides food, or is it as strict as I remember it to be?”

"What do you mean?" she asks bringing a glass of water to her lips.

"Well, I'm obviously not referring to high fashion and bathing facilities," he drawls, continuing to lick at his bottom lip. "But still, do try to think in terms of appeasing one's… hunger." 

Rey nearly chokes on her water. Does he mean what she thinks he means?

“Ben—” Amilyn Holdo sends him a warning look. “Leave her alone.”

“It’s just a question. She’s not obliged to answer,” he says innocently, as he sits back in his chair, eyes glinting under the dim lighting of the pod.

He’s enjoying this. Rey feels heat rising from her chest and spreading to her cheeks. That insufferable man literally wants to get a rise out of her. And it’s working.

“You left. So I guess you’ll never find out now, will you?”

“On the contrary…Rey. Very little escapes my knowledge these days.”

It’s the first time he’s used her name, and it sounds so wrong the way he voices it. As if it's something intimate and...dirty.

She stands up, wiping her hands and trying hard to restrain them from shaking. She turns to Minister Holdo. “The Governor should really start to think twice before he speaks. Maybe then, people wouldn’t be so eager to kill him.”

The Minister opens her mouth to defend him, no doubt, but Rey doesn’t wait for an answer. She storms out the door, bumping straight into the Mandalorian’s back. The armored man staggers, but by the time he realizes what has happened Rey has fled down the corridor.

She bursts onto a balcony at the end of a hall, the fresh air and light drizzle hitting her face, mixing with the tears already stinging her eyes. She wipes at her face, taking in gulps of air and trying to calm her pounding heart. The Governor has been flat-out insolent towards her and nothing, nothing, excuses that kind of behavior. Accepting this assignment has turned out to be a grave mistake. One she did not expect to regret as much as she already has. When Skywalker picked her to be his protector, Rey was aware of the man she would be up against. But never in a million light years did she imagine him to be this malicious.

Rey grips the marble railing, a decision already settling like a stone inside her. 

"Are you alright?" A polite voice comes from behind. Rey turns to see Amilyn Holdo approaching with a concerned smile on her glossy lips. 

She wipes her eyes again. "Yes, I'm fine."

“Don’t pay any attention to what Ben said,” the Minister tries to comfort as she comes to stand next to Rey. “He’s not as bad as he wants to seem.”

“Well, he definitely had me fooled."  Rey lets out a bitter laugh. "But you know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ll get in contact with Master Skywalker and ask him to assign another Jedi to the Governor— if he still wants one. I’m not planning on staying another moment with him.”

The Minister nods in understanding before she presses on carefully. “Perhaps you shouldn’t rush into decisions— even though you have every right to be angry," she hurries to correct at Rey's glare. "But please, do try to return to him for the day. He will be giving an important speech in a few hours, and I’d feel a lot more comfortable if I knew you were at his side.”

Rey turns her attention to the sunset, a burning flame behind the endless sea of glittering buildings and zooming air lanes that consist the stifling capital of Hosnian Prime. Such a different world than what she’s used to.

She eventually nods. “I will. I promise.”

Rey returns much, much later. When she walks inside, the assembly has already begun and the Governor is in his seat with his hand on the earpiece. The lights are dimmed again, and she silently takes her seat behind him. He slowly turns his head over his shoulder to look at her, causing her heart to wedge in her throat.

Stars, please…

She doesn’t believe she can handle any more confrontations with him.

The Governor doesn’t say anything, though. He simply reaches out to pick up another earpiece and hands it over his shoulder. His sharp profile waits for her to take it.

Some kind of peace offering, perhaps.

She reaches for it. His warm, bare fingers brush like a feather against her colder ones, lingering over them delicately.

Rey is quick to pull away.

She sets the small device on her ear with trembling hands, and does her best to listen to the translation. His head turns back towards the assembly, and Rey is left staring at his black strands and broad shoulders, with a mind whirring with doubts and second thoughts. She has never felt so conflicted before in her life. 

It’s not until later in the evening that the Governor takes the floor. His voice is deep, but imposing in the vast amphitheater and captures the Senate’s attention effortlessly. He seems to be in a debate with the Chancellor of Plexus about the funding of the Outer Rim worlds. It’s a prickly subject, raising either heated objections or steadfast agreement from numerous delegations and Senators in the assembly.

And then Rey senses it—

The Governor is standing in the middle of the pod, engrossed in his debate with his opponent. It’s impossible to spot where that fleeting thought has come from. She stands up and turns her head around, trying to pinpoint its origin in the crowd, but it is practically impossible.

The Governor must have sensed her alarm because he slides his eyes in her direction. His speech falters for a fraction of a moment as he locks his dark gaze with hers questioningly.

She doesn’t know what to say to him.

There’s a small commotion across from them, some kind of stirring in the crowd, but Rey can’t tell which pod it’s coming from. Her pulse spikes, and the Force thrums inside her body, the anticipation gathering like an electrical storm on her fingertips.

Where is it?

If she could only find where that thought had come from—

A loud noise disrupts the Governor’s speech.

Blue light erupts in front of his face, and Rey finds herself standing in front of him with her saberstaff fully ignited. The light illuminates their whole section, and voices around the Senate get raised in alarm. Panic surges in the air, as people rush out of their pods.

Bright lights switch on in the Senate, and security floods the floors, and then someone is pointing at a crooked pod and its terrified occupants. There seems to be some form of malfunction in its hovering mechanism.

That must have been the cracking sound that had resounded in the Senate.

Rey breathes out in relief and disengages her lightsaber. Whatever thought she had picked up has disappeared completely. She chances a glance at the Governor to see if he’s concerned in any way, but the expression on his face, as he is looking at her, stops her blood cold.

He is absolutely livid.

Chapter Text

“You have humiliated me in front of the whole Senate!”

Rey stands across the Governor as he thunders in the middle of the room, her features carefully schooled into an expression of impassiveness. The heat of his fury scorches her skin as her silence only spurs him on.

“You have made me appear weak and cowardly, and no statement in the galaxy can wipe out the image of my own personal Jedi whipping out her sword at the sound of a busted pod!”

Rey blinks, not offering him an answer that would only make things worse. They’re in his suite, in one of the most expensive and prestigious hotels of Hosnian Prime, towering over most of the buildings in the capital city. It’s nightfall, and the heavy sky reflecting the vast city’s lights has obtained a bruised crimson hue that reminds Rey of blood. She has her eyes fixed on the horizon, wishing she were anywhere else in the galaxy except here, in this room, with this raging man before her.

“Ben, you’re clearly exaggerating,” Amilyn Holdo intervenes. “Everyone knows there has been an attempt on your life—”

“Am I now?” He snaps around and approaches his minister who’s standing elegantly tall with her arms crossed in front of her chest, and looking very composed under the Governor’s wrath. “I’m sure my opponents will send me their deepest sympathies and pat my back in compassion when I lose the elections, Amilyn!”

“You will not lose the elections because of such an incident! Rey was only protecting you!”

“Why don’t you say that to the Press, then? They will tear and dissect this incident like a pack of hungry wolves until there’s nothing left of me to bury! No—” He shakes his head, raking his hand through his already messed-up hair before he lets it drop to his side. “No. This is exactly what my opponents have been waiting for. They won’t let it go.”

The Governor stomps to his private bedroom, tugging roughly on the fastenings of his cloak. It falls heavily to the ground as he disappears through the open doors.

Rey glances at Jeff and an assistant—Kaydel, she thinks her name is—who are standing further off and looking rather ashen. She presses her lips together, trying to contain her aggravation. She can’t believe how terrified they are of the Governor.

“How about we give this a little more time,” Holdo says, rolling her eyes at the ceiling. "I'm sure it will be forgotten—"

A crash comes from his bedroom, and he soon emerges with a heated face, wearing only a black shirt over his trousers that was probably in the middle of being unbuttoned. His black and purple robes are gone.

Rey looks away.

“Time?” He nearly seethes. “You want us to give this time? To do what? Let it rot and fester until my whole campaign disintegrates because of our inaction? Absolutely not! We have to find a way to salvage this. And you—” he points at Jeff, who flinches under his finger “—will be the one who figures out how to do it. Because if you don’t, then so help me Force, I will make sure you never find another decent job again in your life!”

Rey glares in the Governor’s direction—which he notices immediately because he narrows his dark eyes at her.

“And as for you—” he growls low, “this is your last misstep. Tomorrow morning you’re packing your rags and leaving. You will return to Skywalker and inform him that his infamous Jedi are as big of a failure as him!”

Rey can’t believe the gall that this man has. He has mocked and insulted her on more than one occasion, has threatened and berated Jeff—who had absolutely nothing to do with what happened at the Senate—and is currently lashing out at Luke, who has been nothing but supportive of him. Offering a Jedi for a Senator's protection is not something that happens these days.

“I will do no such thing,” she states icily. “If you want to say something to Luke Skywalker, then you will have to do it yourself, instead of acting like a petulant child and demanding of others to do what you are too cowardly to do on your own.”

“Cowardly?”

“And as for me—”

“Did you just call me a coward?”

“Oh, there are a lot of other things I would call you, Governor, but frankly they fall too short to describe you!”

His face blanches, and his fists clench, and a little insignificant part of her is starting to enjoy this. She’s tired of watching everyone tiptoe around this man as if he's a krayt dragon that escaped his cage. And if it means that she will be packing her rags— like he had said—and getting the hell out of there, then she might as well go in a blaze of glory.

“And as for me…” Rey closes the distance between them and comes to stand right in front of the disheveled Governor. “First thing in the morning I will pack my belongings and leave. You will not speak to me. You will not stop me. Because as of tomorrow you will never see another Jedi again. I will make sure of that.”

Her voice is oddly cold as she speaks to him. Rey barely recognizes it. In fact, she barely recognizes anything this man has brought forth from her in just a matter of days. Luke would not be happy.

The Governor glares at her.

She can see the stubble on his jaw, and even count the lashes around his blazing eyes if she really wishes. But Rey doesn’t want anything to do with him. She only wants to get as far away from him and his vicious temper as possible.

“Leave.”

The order is simple but chilling. And even though he’s looking at her, it’s not directed at her.

The shuffling of feet drifts in the room, and soon the automated doors of his suite hiss shut. They’re the only people left standing in the lounge.

“Is this some kind of a game to you?” he begins.

“A game?”

“You seem to be particularly invested in bringing absolute chaos to my affairs for no apparent reason.”

“And you have absolutely no respect for any of the people around you. They work very hard to reach your obnoxiously high standards, and you demean them every chance you get!" Rey crosses her arms in front of her chest. “I’m surprised they put up with any of your behavior.”

“They are very well compensated.”

“Money doesn’t buy loyalty.”

His eyes roam her body slowly and deliberately, and Rey tries really hard not to give him the impression that she’s affected by his gaze in any way.

“Everyone has their price.”

“I don’t care about money.”

“I have noticed,” he drawls, as his attention slides up her face again. “I want Nyxx to be assigned to me.”

Unbelievable!

“He’s busy.”

“Finding old artifacts and useless holocrons is not considered busy.”

“You’re not getting another Jedi!” Gods. How many times must she say this to him?

“You are young and inexperienced,” he grits out. “You’re incapable of protecting me. Nyxx is Luke’s oldest student.”

And there you have it. The realization lights up like an electron rod in her mind.

Rey steps closer and his eyes widen. Just a fraction.

“You’re afraid.”

But then again, anyone would be afraid if there had been an attempt on their life. But somehow… No. There is more.

The Governor remains silent. She takes another step and sees the rise and fall of his chest quicken.

“No one has told me what happened,” she says.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about the attempt that took place. No one has told me anything about that day.”

He steps back not offering an answer. His ridiculous anger seems to deflate in a matter of seconds. The Governor sets his hands in the pockets of his trousers and goes to stand by a large window that takes the place of an entire wall. Rey can see the reflection of his solemn face as he stares at the glittering city.

So alone.

Rey can’t help but think. He’s surrounded by people, with a schedule that barely allows him any time to breathe. He owns a beautiful estate, which he never sees because he practically lives in a spaceship. He has the power to save worlds from poverty, or crush them under an economic war. He can have anything his heart desires with just one word. And yet the man seems utterly alone.

And afraid. Despite the fact that he has a small army and an actual Mandalorian watching over him.

“It happened on my estate. Nearly a week ago.”

Rey is startled by the sound of his voice. She honestly didn’t think he’d share any events from that day. She imagined he would only stand in front of the window, looking broodily out at the city, refusing to allow any human weakness to show. He turns around and fixes that heavy gaze on her.

“The assassin had access to my room at night. The only reason I’m alive is because I happened to be awake.”

Rey approaches him slowly, putting one foot in front of the other carefully, as if he were a wild animal about to flee at the slightest wrong move.

“It sounds like a very unlucky assassin.”

Is that a smirk? Rey’s not sure if that curl at the corner of his lips can be considered a smile. Either way, it’s gone in an instant.

“He had a red lightsaber. We fought, and I pushed him through a window. There isn’t much to tell.”

Right. Half of the story, at least, is missing.

“Your mother said you used the Dark Side. She seemed concerned.”

His face darkens. Rey feels she said something she shouldn’t have. This man is so easy to irritate that no matter what comes out of her mouth, he’s bound to take the wrong way. She’s standing in front of him now, wondering why she even bothers to find out anything about him. She should have just walked out of the room with the rest of his staff and not given him any more thought. He doesn't deserve it.

But as he looms over her, feet spread firmly on the ground, hands set loosely in his pockets, looking every inch the intimidating man he’s meant to be—if it weren’t for the carefully cloaked fear radiating off him— Rey finds herself to be… intrigued. 

He tilts his head as he watches her just as closely. “I did use the Dark Side.”

“Do you use it often?”

“Once in a while.”

“Does it come easier to you than the Light?”

There’s a crease on his brow.

Rey studies his face, trying to decipher more of his emotions. The man hides himself well in the Force. His eyes are as black as night—yet with some kind of struggle illuminating their depths—his nose is prominent, his lips full, and there are bags under those abysmal eyes. And his skin, it's so pale—

As if he has never come across a single sunray in his life…

“It depends.”

“On what?”

Two heartbeats pass before he answers.

“A number of reasons.”

Rey's eyes fall on the expanse of white, smooth skin between the collars of his black shirt. The contrast is so striking it's hard to look away. She immediately catches herself staring and quickly looks back up. But it's too late.

He has noticed—because that's definitely a smirk playing on the Governor’s lips.

Shit.

“And how about you, Rey? Have you ever used the Dark side?”

“No.”

Warning bells ring in her mind. He’s very good at turning the tables. She has to remember this. He is, after all, a politician.

“A pity. It’s much more interesting.”

“It has nothing to offer me.”

“Oh, you very much know what it could offer you. Why deny it?”

“I am not denying it,” she insists. “I want nothing to do with the Dark side.” The absurdity of his remark is infuriating.

The Governor leans in, ever so slightly, before his next words make her heart stutter to a stop. “Don’t lie to yourself. You would spread your legs for me and let me fuck you senseless if it weren’t for your self-righteousness holding you back.”

Her rattled breath fans on his face.

The slap on his cheek resounds in the room before Rey can think twice about it.

“You’re a monster!” she snarls. “I’m surprised there has only been one attempt on your life!”

His cheek is turning red, and blood seeps from his lip. He brings the back of his hand up to wipe it, piercing her with the most unreadable expression. If he regrets saying those words or plans on calling security to restrain her, it no longer matters.

Because Rey is done. So done with him.

“I have wasted my time on you,” she grits through clenched teeth, ignoring the tremble of her bottom lip. “You are not the Ben Solo I remember. There’s nothing of him left in you!”

There’s a light bob of his Adam’s apple—but that is as far as she sees. Rey turns around and storms out of the room, feeling anything but triumphant.

Chapter Text

“The Governor requests your presence in his rooms.”

Rey glares at the messenger—the skittish assistant who is tasked with organizing the man’s inhumane schedule.

“Tell him he can go burn in Mustafar!”

It’s the most polite answer she can give this early in the morning, and at such a demand, after having tossed and turned all night because of who must be the most malevolent man that has walked this galaxy.

She shuts the doors on the poor girl’s face, and rushes back to her bed to continue shoving the rest of her clothes in the small worn-out backpack that she’s had since the beginning of time. She will take one last shower under actual running water, she will comb her hair and get the last tangles out, dress back into her freshened white outfit—and find a way off of this planet. Even if she has to steal a vessel to do it.

Because nothing in this galaxy could ever convince her to stay.

Another chirp at her door makes her grunt exasperated. Can’t they get a hint?

A man is standing there this time, roguish looking, with dark brown curls and a charming smirk. He’s leaning on the metal beam of the entrance with his shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Poe Dameron,” he offers his hand to her, which she only stares at. He retracts it soon enough. “Right. Well. I’m Leia Organa’s personal pilot, and all around the man for every job, and I was pretty much ordered by her to beg you to come to Governor Solo’s rooms.”

Rey hesitates for a moment. It is, after all, Luke’s sister that’s asking. A Senator and a Rebellion hero.

“No.”

She punches the closing mechanism, but the man is swift, setting a foot between the doors.

“Look. I don’t blame you for not wanting to see the guy. I don’t cross paths with him if I can avoid it myself. But they only want to talk to you. And after that, you’re free to decide what you want to do,” he shrugs. “No pressure.”

Of course, not. Until that vindictive man decides to take her head in his next fit of rage.

“I said no!”

Rey uses the Force to push him back, and her door shuts once again. Now if she could only find her saberstaff and hit the shower.

But, she’s searched everywhere for it. It’s not under the bed, not in any of the empty closets, nor sitting discreetly in any of the room’s corners. She remembers carrying it back from the Senate and setting it at the entrance of the Governor’s—

Shit.

Rey buries her face in her hands. This can’t be happening to her. She straightens her back and takes a deep breath. She must have brought it back. It has to be lying around her room somewhere. The universe can’t be that cruel.

She falls to her knees, looking under the bed for the millionth time. Even if it were there, she would have to use the Force to reach it. The bed is ridiculously huge.

Another chirp sounds at her door, but she ignores it.

Maybe if she conjured some kind of a distraction in the hotel, like a fire in the kitchen, or a collapsing building next door, then she could slip into the Governor’s room and—

Damn that door!

She sits up and glares at its incessant chirping. She wants to Force choke whoever is standing behind it.

Rey stomps her way back and shoves her thumb on the opening button to the point of fracture.

The next visitor is not someone she expected to see.

“You!” she utters at the sight of the Governor looming in her doorway. His hands fly to the automated doors as she punches the mechanism to have them close in on him. But they are blocked with a sickening screech—and next thing she knows, he’s inside her room.

Rey steps back.

“You have no right coming in here.”

“I am the one paying for your accommodations.”

“You really have no respect for anyone, do you? I want you to get out of my room and come back when I am gone!”

“You are not going anywhere unless I tell you to!”

“Oh, really? Watch me!” Screw the shower. She’ll take one when she… finds one again.

Rey turns around, but he grasps her by the arm. "Don't you dare turn your back on me!"

“And don’t you dare touch me!” she hisses.

The Governor’s grip is firm, but not tight enough to hurt. She stares him down with the fiercest look she can pull together—which must somehow work—because those black eyes waver to the side, and his hand loosens its hold on her. Rey shakes it off easily.

She hurries to the bed, gathering the remainder of her things in the backpack. She hears his heavy pace approach, and feels his presence in back of her with that dark gaze following her every movement.

“I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important,” he says, and there’s an unexpected wavering in his voice that makes her slow down her frantic movements.

Rey pushes down that traitorous little part of her that always jumps to the rescue of every suffering soul. This is definitely one soul that does not deserve it. She tosses her backpack over her shoulder and turns around. “Nothing is more important than me getting as far away from you as possible,” she says, making the stupid mistake of glancing directly at his face.

He looks absolutely ragged. All unruly hair, and rumpled shirt, and tired eyes set so deep in their sockets as if he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep all night. It's the first time she sees him in such a horrible state.

The Governor takes advantage of her distraction, reaching for the strap perched on her shoulder and taking her backpack from her. “I only ask for a few moments of your time, Rey. Then you are free to leave, if this is what you want to do.”

There’s something very raw about the way he speaks that weaves itself around her chest and squeezes her heart. Or maybe it’s just his bloodshot eyes. Whatever it is, she resents the power he has suddenly gained over her.

“You really have to start taking no for an answer,” she states a little more weakly than  intended. In fact, she should have been shoving her way out, right about now.

“I never do.”

Of course not. Force help him, if he does one single decent thing in his life and respects another being’s wishes.

“This is a good day to start, then.” She reaches for her backpack, but he sets it down on the floor with a thump of finality. “I haven’t agreed to stay,” she objects.

“Luke is here.”

"Master Skywalker?" This is not a good sign. “But I never got in contact with him.”

“Neither did I.”

“Then why is he here?”

He lifts his brows ever so slightly, looking rather smug. “Care to find out?”

She knew he was a manipulative jerk. Rey sighs. She rubs her forehead, feeling frustrated at the turn of events. 

The Governor makes his way to her busted door and stands at the entrance, extending his hand for her to precede him. She’s not left with much of a choice. Luke’s here for a reason.

Rey slips past him, making sure not to make any kind of contact with his body. She is surprised to discover that the Governor remains at a respectful distance as they make their way to his suite. He’s at least a couple of paces behind her, but Rey can still sense the man’s overbearing presence raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

“She’s here,” he declares as they enter his rooms.

The morning sun is glorious as it rises over the sleeping city, bathing his spacious quarters in golden colors. Three people are standing inside.

Rey’s jaw drops.

“Nyxx?”

Her friend turns around and sends her one of his wicked smirks. “Hey there, beautiful! Heard you brought down the Senate in just a day. If Palps were still around, he’d be dyin’ to meet you.”

She’s in his arms in the blink of an eye, and he’s lifting her off the ground as if she’s made of feathers. Stars, she’s missed him. Her hands grasp his grey robes tightly. They smell like sand and sun and freedom.

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches the Governor watching them with narrowed eyes behind a mug of caf. He takes a sip of the steaming drink, scowls at the taste, and then plunks the mug back down, rattling the table and sloshing hot liquid over the rim.

“Can I have a decent cup of caf today? Or is that too much to ask around here?” he grumbles.

A droid comes whirring in.

Rey wants to snort. She’s heard the Governor snarl. She’s heard him growl and roar orders around. She has even heard him seethe between clenched teeth. But grumbling is actually kind of—

Cute.

His eyes meet hers.

Rey turns her attention back to Nyxx, who’s setting her back on the ground and studying her with a grin. He looks as carefree as ever, and she’s so happy to see him that not even the Governor’s volatile personality can ruin this moment.

“Ben,” Senator Organa says, approaching her son. “We might have a lead.”

The Governor wipes at the spilled caf on his hand. “I’ve heard that before.”

Leia sets her hand on her son’s forearm, waiting patiently for his attention. He finally relents and looks at her.

“He might be the one behind that organization we have been trying to uncover. The First Order.”

“Who? The assassin?”

“No. The creature.”

He stops cold at that, and whatever little color is on his face seems to drain away. Rey looks at Nyxx curiously, who winks at her and raises a finger not to say a word.

What creature?

Suddenly she feels privy to some great big family secret. One that she’s not sure the Governor would be too happy about sharing with her. He removes his hand from his mother’s grasp and goes to stand by the large window, setting his hands in his pockets and staring out at the waking city. It’s such a similar image to yesterday night's that Rey realizes he’s trying to compose himself.

He must really hate seeming vulnerable in front of others. Even if those others are his own family.

“What kind of a lead?” He asks in a low voice.

Leia glances at Luke, who nods at her to continue.

“Your father came across a man in Takodana who claims to be a defecting Stormtrooper.”

“There haven’t been any Stormtroopers since the Empire.”

“Precisely. Which is why it’s something we can’t ignore.”

“He might be delusional,” he opposes. “Some fanatic of the old days who has trouble distinguishing between fantasy and the real world. Force knows there are plenty of those out there.”

The Governor continues to keep his back turned to them, even though Rey can see the tension in his shoulders. She looks back at Nyxx, hoping he’ll be willing to share some more information about what is going on, but he only narrows his charcoaled green eyes—his way of chastising her innate curiosity.

Rey barely contains a huff.

Luke is the one who takes over, his calm voice attempting to smooth the edges of his nephew's emotions.

“He claims he was part of the First Order. There are a lot of things this man has to say that sound legitimate, and seem to verify what we’ve been trying to piece together for years. Their Leader is called Snoke.”

He pauses and approaches the Governor, heavy robes brushing on the carpeted floor as he comes to stand next to him. “The defector describes him as a grotesque man of mystical powers. Ben— ” he sets his hand on his nephew’s shoulder and continues a little softer. “I believe he must be the one we’ve been looking for.”

The Governor looks at his uncle, who has his big blue eyes trained on him.

“What will you do?”

“Nyxx and I are leaving for Maz’s castle to meet with Han and the young man. I’ll let you know what comes out of it. In the meantime—”

Luke glances at Rey and sends her one of her all-time favorite smiles. The kind that makes him look like the selfless young man that had brought an Empire down decades ago, and never stopped dedicating himself to what is good and honorable in this galaxy. It warms her heart and fills her with courage. Nyxx wraps his tattooed arm around her and squeezes her shoulder.

She can do this.

Luke’s attention has returned to his nephew. “In the meantime, Rey will watch over you. She is strong in the Light, which is one of the reasons I chose her for you. Let her help you, kid.”

The Governor takes a few moments before he answers back. And when he does, his voice is deep and hoarse and cracks with bitterness at the end. Rey can barely hear it.

“No one can help me with the voices…”

Her Master pats him affectionately on the shoulder. “You’re not alone, my boy. You’ve never been alone in this.”

Ben looks out the window again, and Luke makes his way towards his sister. They don’t exchange any words, but they may have just said everything there is to say in the galaxy, simply by looking at each other. He places a tender kiss on her forehead and then takes his leave, signaling for Nyxx to join him. Her friend messes her hair playfully, and the next thing she knows they’re both gone in a whirl of thick cloaks and muffled steps.

Rey suddenly feels very alone again. Leia Organa walks up to her and takes her hands. The Senator's eyes are red-rimmed and tears are pooling, but the way she smiles lights up her whole face with hope. “Thank you for agreeing to help my son, Rey. You have no idea how grateful we all are…"

Rey nods silently, and watches the older woman walk up to her son to say her goodbyes. It's only a touch on his elbow and a warm smile, while he remains as still as a statue. But the affection and concern are obvious on Leia Organa's face. She takes her leave soon after, saying she'll meet with them at the Senate later in the day. Rey is left alone with the Governor and that annoying droid rolling around without a care in the world, preparing a new cup of caf for him.

She stares at his back for a few long moments before she nods to herself.

I can do this.

Rey picks up the mug from the droid’s mechanical hand and comes to stand next to the Governor. She’s very silent in her approach, not wanting to disturb him from his thoughts. She extends the mug in front of him and waits.

Surely that delicious smell must be very tempting. Rey has never had caf in her life but figures she could try some soon. Along with those mouth-watering muffins and fresh fruit piled on the small breakfast table. When he’s not paying attention, of course.

His hands wrap around the steaming mug, cold, clammy fingers brushing against her calloused ones.

And then he looks at her.

Rey sucks in a breath. Sunlight is caressing his pale face, shimmering on his dark strands and illuminating his eyes. They are rich and soft under the morning light, and she can’t believe they are the same eyes she has been seeing this whole time.

Because they are not the bottomless black color of his heart. They are a striking and unmistakable—

Amber.

Rey can’t stop looking at him. Especially now with the rising sun warming his features in colors of gold.

It brings her back to years and years ago. To a teenage boy with a mop of black hair and soft curious eyes, lifting a rag covering the entrance of an upturned crate to peek at the little girl huddled in a corner. The sun had fallen on his face the exact same way as now.

“Hey, there…”

Echoes of the past still drift in her mind once in a while.

Ben takes the offered cup of caf from her hands without saying a word.  He takes a sip, squinting at the sun’s powerful rays. And then he turns away.

“We have a long day ahead of us,” he says, walking towards a large desk across the room. Rey straightens her back. “I’ll have Kaydel get in contact with you and tell you what today’s schedule is.”

Rey continues to stand by the window, watching him shuffle through a pile of datapads, feeling rather disappointed. No. Scratch that. She feels very, very disappointed.

“What? That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

He picks one out and scrolls down its screen. “Did you expect something more from me?”

His apathy settles like lead inside her. Of course, she was expecting more from him. Brushing last night’s behavior under the rug is not something she's willing to allow. She clenches her hands into fists. “You owe me an apology.”

He raises his eyes to look at her. They are as black as night again. “An apology?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

It’s disheartening to see how difficult it is for him to acknowledge last night's awful behavior towards her. Ben has changed so much. 

“I thought things were settled between us,” he raises an eyebrow.

“They are very far from being settled!” Now she isn’t just disappointed. She’s beginning to feel angry.

He sets his datapad on the desk with a condescending smirk and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Very well. I was out of line. I should have never spoken to you the way I did.”

That is a pathetic example of an apology and he knows it. She raises her chin. “I still haven’t decided if I’ll stay.” 

The smirk falls from his face instantly. “What is that supposed to mean? I thought this meeting convinced you otherwise. ”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“It wasn’t enough?” His voice rises. “And what exactly would be enough for you?”

She doesn’t know, though. That’s the problem. She doesn’t know what it is that she expects from this man—so she remains silent.

The Governor runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m not the boy you remember, Rey.”

“You couldn’t have made that more clear.”

“Then what more do you want from me?” He tosses his arm in the air, incredulous. A strand of black hair falls in front of his pale face that's heating up with anger. “To take you by the hand and show you around my shiny new world? This isn’t Luke’s Academy and I’m not responsible for you anymore!”

She clenches her fists and looks to the side feeling her vision begin to blur. How can she ask for someone to return when they no longer exist? 

There’s a long exhale from him. He walks around the desk, his steps thudding along with the beat of her heart as he approaches and comes to a stop in front of her. Rey refuses to look at him.

Her lip begins to tremble.

“Rey?”

Gods…

“Look at me.”

There’s a soft touch under her chin, and she flinches away, realizing a little late that it had been his curled fingers. His hand falls to the side. 

“Let the past go,” he says in a low voice. “Cut it off, if you have to. It's the only way to move on from a life that was never meant to be.”

She still senses his eyes on her, but she can’t muster the courage to look at him. Rey feels like she’s holding on to a ghost. To wilting memories of a past long gone. It breaks her heart to see how far apart they have grown.

A small sigh comes from him, but it’s so light and so fleeting that it blends with the shifting of fabric as he moves away. He returns to the breakfast table to pour himself another cup of caf.

“You have an hour to decide if you want to remain at my service,” is the only thing she says. “You may go.”

Rey nods. She's about to turn around and leave when her attention falls on a painting that hangs on the wall behind him. She hadn't noticed it when she walked into the room earlier— but she does now.

It depicts a boy under the oppressive shadow of a mountain, hiding his face from the sun.

Rey walks out of the Governor's rooms, barely remembering to snatch her saberstaff resting at the doors.

Chapter Text

The Mandalorian is gone, and only a handful of guards flank their side this morning as Rey follows the Governor and his team down the hotel lobby.

He is leading the way with his black cloak flaring dramatically behind him as always, while in deep conversation with Minister Hold who’s wearing a simple but elegant purple dress. Their steps are hurried and clipped on the polished floor, forcing the few occupants of the lobby to move aside for them to pass.

“You’ll be joining us at the Senate again today,” Jeff informs her, while Rey barely restrains herself from grimacing. “And later this evening you’ll be escorting the Governor to dinner with the Core’s most important leaders. I hope you have something to wear.”

“I’ll be wearing what I always wear," she grumbles. "No one told me I was supposed to carry a wardrobe of clothes."

She side-eyes the Governor who, at the moment, has his full attention on Minister Holdo and looks exceedingly well put together considering the circumstances. He’s back in his politician’s robes, with his black waves combed into silky perfection and the circles under his eyes completely covered up. He looks as if he got up all fresh and rested after an eight-hour sleep.

Rey feels like she spent the night in a trench.

“Don’t take this the wrong way," Jeff says. "These events are very formal, and you’ll be going to a lot of them with the Governor from now on.”

“Are they as boring as the Senate?”

He laughs aloud. “I honestly don’t know which is worse.”

Rey smiles, despite the idea of a long tedious dinner with the Governor making her reconsider the decision to stay. "Will you be there too?" she asks hopefully.

"Not this time, I'm afraid."

"A shame. I was hoping for a friendly face."

Jeff gives her a toothy grin. “I promise we'll have plenty of opportunities in the future. But for now, I think we should concentrate on what he needs us to do.” He gestures towards the Governor, who is already waiting at the urban shuttle that will be transporting them to the Senate, and looking anything but patient. “We'd better be moving. As boring as the Senate may be, we still need to get there by today.”

The Governor doesn’t spare either of them a glance as they approach, and boards the shuttle with a scowl. Rey slips inside after him, while Jeff follows suit. She feels rather relieved that he’ll be joining them at the Senate today. His company is pleasant and light-hearted, and it will take her mind off that awful meeting earlier in the morning.

The shuttle takes off, easing into the city’s air lanes. Tall buildings and infinite air shuttles zoom by the window, and it doesn’t take long before Rey gets tired of the sight. Amilyn Holdo is engrossed in reading a report, while the Governor stares out a window, eyes narrowed against the light filtering in and chin resting on a fist. He has barely acknowledged her presence.

Thankfully, Jeff decides to break the oppressive silence by pointing out important buildings and filling her in on the planet’s history. He has a lot of knowledge on history and social studies, along with a good sense of humor—a combination of which make his descriptions very intriguing. He’s in the middle of telling some seedy local story about a baron and his two mistresses, that even has Amilyn smiling in secret, when Rey lets out a loud giggle.

The Governor’s eyes snap in her direction. “Is this necessary?”

Rey’s smile falters. She had forgotten all about his mercurial temper.

“I apologize, sir.” Jeff is quick to remedy. “I was only trying to make Rey feel more at ease.”

“She’s not on vacation, and this isn’t a recreational tour of the city.”

“Of course not, sir.”

“We have a particularly long and difficult day ahead of us. I would appreciate it if you two concentrated on that, instead.”

Rey rolls her eyes, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Is there something you wish to add, Miss Jakku?” His gaze is particularly piercing.

She bites her lip, trying to figure out if it would be worth the hassle offering a piece of her mind. But he’s staring at her long and hard, and she figures it’s useless anyway, so she relents.

“No, Governor.”

He doesn’t comment any further. Only slides his gaze back at the rushing city.

It doesn’t take long for them to reach the Senate. They file out of the shuttle, and Rey takes her customary place behind his right shoulder. Security is particularly strict today, checking the delegates and their teams for any kind of weaponry. She is about to hand her saberstaff over to one of the men when the Governor raises his hand.

“You will allow her to pass with her weapon,” he says, capturing his eyes. The man nods, with a blank expression.

Rey’s jaw drops. “Did you just—”

But the Governor has already moved on, cloak flaring and boots clicking, without giving this matter any more attention.

She jogs to catch up, completely disregarding her usual position, and comes to his side.

“Did you just use the Force on the poor guy’s mind?” she grits out. “He might get into trouble because of it!”

“You are not giving away your saberstaff.”

“I can still protect you without it! He might end up losing his job because of what you just did! Not to mention how wrong it was to mess with his mind over such a simple matter as—”

He halts suddenly, and Jeff barely stops himself from running into his back. The alarmed expression on her friend’s face is absolutely priceless, and she would ordinarily be laughing her heart out, if the Governor wasn’t staring at her as if she'd lost her mind.

Stars only know what he’s about to unleash her way.

“Fine,” he growls. “Fill in whatever data work is required for our Jedi to hold on to her weapon,” he orders Jeff before he turns his attention back to Rey. “Happy?”

She has actually been caught a little off guard. “I guess.”

“Anything else?” he growls.

She could ask for a raise on the security man’s wage, but figures it would be best if she didn’t press her luck.

“No.”

“May we continue?”

“Yes.”

He mutters something under his breath that Rey doesn’t quite catch. He seems to do this often.

The Governor resumes his original pace. Rey remains next to him.

It’s a full house today. Something to do with a very important voting about a world that’s to enter the Republic. He spends most of the time in talks with ambassadors and Senators within the endless corridors, and her feet are beginning to hurt. The pain is so cumbersome it almost distracts her from keeping her guard up.

When they enter their pod, eventually, Rey wants to sigh with relief. Surprisingly, Leia Organa is also seated inside, looking almost regal in her blue and silver Senator’s robes from Chandrila. The Governor takes a seat next to his mother and runs his hand through his hair.

He seems very anxious.

Jeff, thankfully, takes the time to explain who each speaker is and what the purpose of each speech is, while the Governor sits silently in his seat, sliding an occasional glare their way when they get too loud. His frown seems to deepen with each passing orator. His mother’s seems to match his perfectly, Rey notices, as she studies their profiles under the scarce lighting of the pod.

“Can’t they see what an important addition to the Republic this world could be?” Leia Organa mumbles. The Governor leans over and sets his elbows on the pod’s ledge. Rey watches him rest his forehead on his forearms momentarily, feeling a knot form in her stomach. She has never seen him display weakness of any kind in public.

“We’ll need an alliance with them one way or another,” he states gruffly. “If what we’ve heard about the Order is true, we’ll need all the help we can get.”

“The Republic is afraid,” Leia says. “Their world is too powerful.”

His turn to speak comes around, and he passionately supports the world and their importance in expanding the New Republic. Rey stands next to him, trying her best to keep her mind open for any dangerous thoughts, but the truth is, the anxiety streaming from him feels like static and it practically short-circuits her brain.

The actual voting doesn’t take long to take place, since each pod needs to decide on a simple yes or no on its electronic panel. The results follow soon after.

The Governor shuts his eyes, rubbing them dolefully when the results are in. Leia Organa sets her hand on her son's back, looking at him with the most broken-hearted expression Rey has ever seen.

“You don’t have to do this, Ben.” Rey hears her whisper. “We can find another way to gain an alliance with them.”

He rubs his hand down his face before he answers. “There is no other way, mother. I have no choice.”

Rey feels her heart sink for some reason.

The Governor is quiet on the shuttle ride back to the hotel, and his foul mood has spread to the rest of its occupants—everyone sitting just as quietly. The only sound that breaks the depressive silence is the smooth whirring of the shuttle’s engine and the wind whistling against the hull. He sits with his chin resting on his fist, looking pensively out the window. His black form is a lonesome contrast to the cream-colored interior of the shuttle.

Rey looks at Jeff, who gives her a warm smile.

An eternity passes before they arrive back at the hotel. The lobby is fairly busy when they return, and apart from a couple of crisp nods, the Governor stalks down its length avoiding any further interactions—which is a good thing. At least he won’t be terrifying any of the hotel staff.

“I doubt his mood will get any better for that dinner tonight,” she comments when Jeff walks up to her.

“It has been a rough couple of days at the Senate for him.”

“Don’t tell me you actually feel sorry for him?” Jeff might be coming off as being polite, but Rey can sense he doesn’t particularly like his boss. “He threatened to fire you just a day ago.”

“It’s not the first time,” he shrugs.

Rey shakes her head. “Maybe it would be better if we skipped that dinner altogether. We wouldn’t want some war breaking out in the galaxy just because his steak was too raw.”

Jeff lets out a hearty laugh that has her smiling back. They come to a stop in front of a turbolift. She only has about an hour to rest and freshen up before she and the Governor depart for that infamous dinner.

“The dinner is important, and you can’t talk your way out of it,” he says.

“I am doing no such thing!” She’s actually in the process of trying, but he doesn’t seem to buy it. 

He leans into her ear, green eyes sparkling with something other than mirth. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You’re not as innocent as you seem.”

Rey finds herself smiling fondly at him as she steps inside the lift, despite the pestering instinct to always keep her guard up. She really wishes Jeff could join them at this event. Part of her is dreading being on a one-to-one basis with the Governor.

The doors hiss shut, and the turbolift begins its ascent when Rey catches a black reflection on the metal surface of the walls. Her hand flies to her chest as she turns around to look at the other occupant, standing rigidly with his gloved hands clasped in front of him.

Shit.

He must have overheard their discussion. How could she have missed his presence again? Jeff is turning out to be a major distraction.

“You startled me. I didn’t see you.”

The Governor smirks lightly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, you didn’t,” he drawls.

He tears his gaze from her and looks straight ahead. A couple of moments pass in tense silence, and Rey feels like she has to somehow break this iceberg forming between them. She’ll be spending most of her waking hours next to this man, after all.

“Jeff has been very helpful.”

“Is that so?”

Rey finds the Governor sounding a bit off, but figures it probably has to do with that Senate voting earlier, and decides not to give it much thought.

“He has a lot of knowledge on galactic history, and a keen sense of politics. He seems very capable.”

“Really?”

Rey gives the Governor a side-eye. Yes, he is in a much worse mood than she initially thought. The kind that simmers dangerously for hours before it boils over and brings absolute havoc to all its surroundings. She is starting to second-guess her decision to stay.

“Yes. Capable. I think you’re lucky to have him on your staff.”

The Governor chuckles coldly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What else do you have to say about Mr. Hudson? Better say it now that you’re on a roll. You seem very fond of him.”

She bristles—something to do with the timbre of his voice that she can’t quite place.

‘Well. In a way. He seems like a good friend.”

He arches his brows, almost incredulous. “A friend? Is that how you think of him?”

Rey is starting to feel rather uncomfortable, like the temperature in the turbolift is rising. She raises her hand to touch her heated forehead. It's taking ages to get to their floor.

“Why do I get the feeling I am going through some kind of interrogation by you? Jeff is a friend. I don’t know what you’re implying.”

“I am not implying anything. But I believe your friend is.”

“You’re not making any sense.” He really isn’t. Rey turns to look at him, to figure out where he’s taking this conversation—because she can never be too careful around this man.

His narrowed eyes are already on her. “He gets a smile, while I get a slap on the face?”

The Governor’s dark, piercing gaze does its job marvelously, because Rey stands there gaping at him once again with nothing to say.

He drags his eyes from her just as the turbolift comes to a stop at their floor, and the doors open with a hiss. “Think about it,” he says over his shoulder, and steps into the corridor.

His heavy pace is muffled on the carpeted floor and Rey remains frozen, watching his broad frame walk away with his stygian cloak flaring like a night bird’s wings.

A teenage boy with raven hair is looking at her scrunched, appalled face as they watch a humongous reptile devour its meal from afar. “It’s no different than a bird catching a fly. Think about it.”

The doors start to close in on her.

“Wait!”

She squeezes herself through the hissing doors and rushes down the corridor. He doesn’t slow down, but Rey catches up with him easily. She grasps his arm, fingertips digging into the muscle underneath.

“Ben, wait!”

He halts. And stares at her hand.

“What you said to me was horrible. And you weren’t even sorry!” Rey can’t believe he is comparing his words to Jeff’s. “It’s not the same. He’s been nothing but respectful towards me.”

He raises his gaze, and Rey swears she has never seen him look at her this way before.

“Respectful?” He shakes his head lightly. “You have much to learn.”

“You’re in no position to teach.”

“I’m in a position to know.”

“Then you are wrong about him. He—”

“Don’t.”

Rey pulls her hand away as if she’s been cinched.  She realizes that the look he’s giving her is full of bitterness and disappointment, and a million other emotions that have no names.

The Governor backs away, clenching his jaw. “Your affairs with Jeff Hudson are not my concern. You are free to do as you wish.”

Rey watches him turn and resume his heavy walk, feeling as if he’s robbing her of air.

“We are leaving in an hour,” he states over his shoulder. “Be ready.”

His steps disappear down the corridor, allowing Rey to take in a shuddering breath. No matter what she says or does around this man, it always comes out wrong. She doesn’t understand why that is, and she finally admits that she has never, ever felt so completely and utterly—

Lost.

Chapter Text

“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?”

Rey stands in the middle of the Governor’s exorbitant suite at precisely the time he has demanded, trying really hard not to comment on the disdainful gaze raking down her body. They are already on rocky grounds as it is.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

"You look as if you just crawled out of the Lower Levels of Coruscant. Did you even come across a mirror before exiting your room?”

Rey glances down at her clothes, wondering if there’s a rip on them, or some kind of abhorrent stain on her arm wraps that she has missed. She’s wearing a clean white tunic with a high-collar grey jacket, which is the most presentable of her outfits—even though it has definitely seen better days. Her hair is freshly washed, and her nails are clean and her boots no longer have mud on them. There’s no reason for him to be glaring as if she's been dipped in engine oil.

“That’s absurd. My clothes are fine.”

“I beg to differ.”

“You can beg all you want. This is what I’ll be wearing tonight.”

His nostrils flare, and a glossy strand falls from his perfectly combed hair, an unmistakable sign that he has already been running his hand through his hair in irritation. He is standing across from her, dressed in an impeccable midnight blue suit, a white collar shirt, and a blood-red tie—groomed to perfection as always. Rey has not seen anything else but black and purple on him these past few days, and if it weren't for that rebellious strand of hair falling out of place, she would barely recognize him.

“Mustafar will freeze over before you stand next to me in a formal dinner with the Galaxy’s most powerful leaders, dressed in clothes that seem ready to fall apart at the slightest tug,” he declares exasperated.

Rey shrugs. “Well, I don’t have anything else to wear.” What will he do anyway? Conjure an evening gown out of thin air for her?

“There’s a presentable outfit for you hanging in my rooms as we speak. You will go in there and change into it.”

She presses her lips. Of course, he would have planned ahead. “I am not changing into some ridiculous dress just because I’m escorting you to dinner! I’ll end up tripping over its hem and slicing an arm off with my saber staff, before I’m able to take one step to defend you if something bad happens.”

His cheeks are starting to flush, and Rey thinks that added little color on his face looks rather good on him. If only he didn't seem so close to popping a vein inside his skull.

“Is it really so hard for you to cooperate with anything I say?” he growls. 

She would roll her eyes if she knew she could get away with it. She’s not the only one being difficult around here. “I’ve done everything you have asked me to do so far, and you’re still not satisfied. I really don’t believe a piece of clothing will make any difference.”

The Governor is about to snarl back a response but he bites his bottom lip instead. Rey stares at it, afraid it’ll start bleeding from the cut she gave him yesterday. Especially if he starts chewing on it in frustration like she’s seen him do so many times before. And it would be such a shame too, because he has such smooth, soft-looking lips and—

Rey catches her train of thought and steps away mortified.

Because nothing, nothing goes unnoticed by this man. She feels her own color drain from her face at the knowing look he gives her, and she turns around immediately to hide her reaction from him. How could she have been so stupid? Repeating the same mistake as yesterday. He’ll use it against her on the first chance he gets—when her defenses are at their lowest and he’s bitter over someone preparing the wrong kettle of tea for him—and tear her to kriffing pieces.

Rey wishes a wormhole could open and swallow her whole.

"Fine! Have it your way! I’ll wear whatever you want me to wear.” She’s on the verge of panic and she tries really, really hard not to show it. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Hey…” Jeff steps in. “They’re only clothes.” He says, trying to catch her eyes. “You’ll change back to your own when all this is over.”

Rey nods, hanging on to his words as if they are a lifeline.

The Governor clenches his jaw and turns his back on them. He crosses the room in his swift, heavy gait and goes to stand by the window to stare at the city, seemingly unaffected by her near meltdown. The only sign of aggravation is the leather of his gloves creaking in his tight grasp.

“Get her ready,” he orders a woman dressed in an outrageously fashionable dress, “we’re already running late.”

Rey is ushered inside the Governor’s room.

An outfit is hanging in a closet, like he had said, and Rey wants to cry with relief. It’s very close in color to what the Governor is wearing tonight, but very very similar to the style of clothing she usually goes around in. She thanks every single star in this galaxy it is not a dress.

She is squeezed into the soft, tight fabric by the woman who is mumbling something about moisturizers and exfoliants and other savage ways of cleansing the body that Rey chooses to ignore. She fidgets as the material clings to her like a second skin. Some kind of expensive shimmering tunic is draped over her and tied to her waist with a tight black belt. Rey glances down at the cleavage and feels her whole skin crawl.

It’s not exactly modest.

She's not given much time to contemplate on that, because the next thing she knows, her feet are being shoved into black polished boots with heels. She immediately considers snapping the heels off but it turns out the boots aren't all that high. And they are surprisingly soft and comfortable. More comfortable than any of the heavy combat boots she usually shuffles around in making her feet look like a happabore's.

Rey decides she rather likes them.

She scans the Governor’s room as the woman applies a sticky substance to her lips and powders her face.

His bed has not been touched. But she can see his robes have been left carelessly on top of a chair. There’s a fresher to the side of the room, and that musky scent that always drifts from him seems to come from there. She figures it must be some detergent or other cleaning product. Maybe a hair wash or skin exfoliant, the kind the lady was grumbling about earlier. Or maybe... it's a cologne.

It does smell very, very good...

She notices a bath towel on the edge of the bed, and quickly looks away with a blush. Suddenly, she feels very uncomfortable. These are his personal quarters. And she feels like she's prying.

Rey has been distracted long enough that she doesn’t notice the woman redoing her hair. She glances at the mirror, dreading what she will come across, but is instantly relaxed when she sees her customary three buns. Only fuller. More elegant.

Rey stares at her reflection, turning her head from side to side.

It’s still her looking back and not some freak of fashion. The main difference is that she’s dressed in formal dark blue instead of her usual white and beige hues. It’s not a color she’s fond of—but it could have been worse. And the pinkish-glossy substance on her lips tastes like berries, which isn’t bad.

The woman tuts at her as she tries to have another lick.

Rey gets off the chair and strides to a mirror, balancing herself carefully on her new boots. She really hopes that a heel doesn’t get snatched on a rug and she ends up flat on her face.

“Won’t you look at that,” the woman exclaims happily with a clap of her hands. “I never thought we’d turn the savage desert rat into a creature that is borderline presentable.”

Rey frowns at her reflection. Is that how they all regard her? As some form of rudimentary project they need to tailor to their needs?

Is that what he thinks of her too?

Without a second thought, she snatches the sleeves from their seam and tears each one off. The ripping resounds in the room. The woman blanches.

“What are you doing?” she shrieks.

But Rey ignores her high-pitched cries of objection and continues to tear each sleeve into smaller strands, struggling to gain some part of herself back. She wraps them around her forearms until they feel snug enough not to slip off. 

Much better, she concludes despite the stylist's protests.

There’s a hurried knock at the doors. Kaydel's voice drifts in worriedly, asking if everything is alright. The indignant stylist rushes to open them wide, complaining at the baffled assistant in a language that Rey doesn’t understand.

Rey strolls past them with her chin high.

Jeff gives her a once over, clearly impressed with her appearance, but it’s not his approval she’s searching for either.

She comes to stand before the Governor and his window.

"I'm ready to go," she says with a roll of her shoulders.

Night has fallen. The glittering city is hard to distinguish from the clear sky and its infinite stars. The man is looking at them as if he governs them all. His cheeks are still heated when he turns to appraise her,  and those eyes of his are as dark as the night behind him. Rey realizes she can’t breathe...

It must be because her clothes are too darned stiff. 

“It took you long enough,” he states in an odd voice. "Another minute and I would have thought you had fled out my window."

"Don't be ridiculous. We are on the eight hundred and thirty-fourth floor."

"I wouldn't put it past you."

She narrows her eyes. “Funny to see how concerned you are about us running late. We would have been on our way by now, if you weren’t so adamant about me changing clothes.”

The Governor’s heavy gaze falls on her cleavage. Her cheeks begin to burn, making her wish she had some kind of a cowl to use in order to cover herself. But his gaze doesn’t linger. It sweeps over her bare shoulders, down the sleeves which have been turned into arm wraps, all the way to the tips of her shiny new boots. Rey braces herself for a comment that will surely sting. He has barely moved but she can already feel the room closing in on her.

“You look beautiful,” he says, sliding his black eyes to hers.

Rey blinks at him.

She must have heard wrong. Or he must have meant something else. There’s no way—

The Governor parts his lips to say something more, but seems to reconsider. His face darkens, and suddenly he doesn’t seem so confident about what he wanted to say. 

Rich blue fabric and a golden clasp holding his evening cloak together fill her vision as he leans in to speak in her ear. “Stay close to me tonight,” he mutters.

“Stay close to me…There are vipers in these forests, and I don’t want you getting bit by one.”

Rey shakes the memory away. The image of the teenage boy looking over his shoulder, as he parts tree branches for her to follow, is as vivid as the man standing before her.

The Governor brushes by.

Rey glances at his back, heartbeat stuttering in her chest.

.

.

.

There’s a crowd waiting when their shuttle reaches the last floor of one of the tallest buildings in Hosnian Prime. Rey stares out her window with apprehension, at the glamorous entrance of the high-class restaurant and the multiple flashlights flickering from the gathered reporters.

“What is this?”

“This,” the Governor rumbles from his seat, “is called… salvaging.”

She snaps her eyes to him. He’s looking at the crowd as if he’s orchestrated the whole event.

“They are here for you,” he concedes. “Luke’s Academy of Jedi is not common knowledge. He’s been very secretive about it. So, you can imagine everyone’s curiosity and awe at the appearance of one next to me in the Senate.”

Rey is starting to have a bad feeling about tonight.

“What have you told them?”

“The truth.”

“That doesn’t sound like much salvaging in your world of politics. Does Luke know?”

It takes a moment for him to answer, and Rey senses the hesitation.

“He doesn’t need to.”

The door opens, and the Governor stands before she’s able to protest. He gets off with practiced ease and offers his gloved hand for her to take. Rey hesitates at his expectant face. Lights are trained on him, carving shadows on his face and deepening his already dark gaze. Rey can’t help but look at him with a feeling akin to wonder.

He looks... alluring. 

Dangerously so.

She sets her hand in his, feeling her body go numb. He helps her out, and the crowd comes alive.

There are flashes of light, and shouts and questions filling the air. The security is struggling to keep the narrow corridor leading to the entrance of the fancy restaurant from being overrun by the crowd, as people push and shove trying to come closer.

Rey swirls her head around, eyes wide, mind bewildered.

“Don’t be afraid.” He suddenly says in her ear. 

Rey turns in the direction of his voice out of instinct. He’s so close that she can smell the musk of his cologne and feel his breath on her temple. Her eyes ache from the flashing of lights, and her ears are starting to buzz. It’s as if her senses are betraying her.

The Governor lets go of her hand, moving on ahead. She watches him walk away, unable to take a single step herself.

There’s a bombardment of questions aimed his way, as the tidal wave of reporters swarms around him. She can hear the Governor saying no comment to a few extended microspeakers before he turns around, searching for her. She can see his eyes widen, and his lips forming her name in alarm before he disappears completely from sight.

And as simple as that, he is swallowed by the crowd.

Rey hasn’t felt fear in years. Not since her early childhood, when she would scavenge for scraps of metal or anything else she could find useful in the fallen wreckage of Star Destroyers scattered in the dunes of sand on Jakku. She had, on numerous occasions, been beaten and robbed of her findings by other scavengers, and had often wondered if she would live to see another day. But the peaceful, quiet years she has spent in Luke’s Academy studying the ways of the Force and going on missions with her Master and fellow students have dwindled the emotion of fear to a distant memory.

Tonight it has returned with a vengeance.

Because she has lost sight of him, and it could turn out to be fatal. Rey hasn’t forgotten the thought she caught yesterday at the assembly.

She raises her hand.

Masses of people are shoved to the side, and a path is cleared in front of her leading all the way to a startled Governor. She quickly closes the distance between them, intent on giving him a piece of her mind about his salvaging plan and its complete failure, but before she knows it, his arm is grasping her waist and pulling her against his body.

She blinks up at him, surprised at the close contact.

“I told you to stay close to me!”

She opens her mouth to say something back, but he has already turned his attention to security, roaring for them to clear the way. His arm remains tightly wrapped around her waist.

Lights are still flickering, and microspeakers are shoved in their faces, and a million questions are shouted at them—but she is whisked away by security like a princess from a Rancor’s den. Soon enough they stumble through the entrance of the restaurant.

They are both panting, and Rey is very much aware of his broad chest heaving under the palm of her hand. She is, in fact, aware of a lot of things about him that she has never noticed until now. Like how large he is in comparison to her, how solid and warm his body feels as she is pressed against him, and how strange and disorienting all these sensations are.

His eyes are trained on her, and Rey thinks he’s saying something, but her senses are all over the place and she doesn’t understand a thing.

“Are you all right?” He seems to repeat himself, as his grasp loosens from around her waist.

She nods, because she doesn’t trust her voice quite yet.

“If I had known my Jedi would bring me so much trouble," he says, "I would have never bothered asking Luke for protection to begin with.”

It’s meant to be a joke but it only makes Rey suddenly remember why she had been so mad at him.

“You should have warned me about this,” she snaps. He looks at her taken aback. His hand falls from her side, and she hates how alone she suddenly feels. “You have exposed Luke and his students, and exploited my trust in you, just so that you could save your public image. Not to mention the danger you have put yourself in—”

“You are being overdramatic.”

He’s looking at her amused, and it only angers her more.

“No, I’m not! You should have asked me—or at least informed me about this whole charade! How am I supposed to help you if you don’t trust me with your plans? Yes, I might be young for a Jedi and you, obviously, would rather not have me around. But you are in danger, Ben. You have barely been trained in the Force and Luke has trusted me with your life!”

Rey pauses for breath, glancing at those unfathomable eyes. His imperceptible smile has fallen from his lips, and his features have become serious. She must somehow make him understand the importance of her presence, otherwise, this constant antagonism between them will never cease. And she is getting tired of it. So tired.

“I am not part of your staff,” she continues, a little spent under his heavy gaze. “You do not need to buy my services or loyalty, and I have no need for your money. I am simply here to protect you. Why is that so hard for you to accept?”

She stares at him, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment. Some sign that she has gotten through to him—because this constant battling is wearing her out.

But he only stares back in heavy silence, and all she wants to do is give up.

“You’re right,” he says suddenly, his deep voice rumbling in the small space between them.

Did he just— “What did you say?”

Rey wishes she still had her hand on his chest to feel the vibration of his voice and verify the words he spoke. She must be hallucinating.

He leans in slightly. “I said you’re right,” he repeats himself. “From now on, you'll be better informed. I promise you.”

The teenage boy stands before her, with his black hair ruffled by the wind. He’s holding a backpack with his belongings and looking at her with red-rimmed eyes.

“I’ll come back and see you again sweetheart. I promise you.”

But the boy never did. He never returned to the Academy again. And Rey never stopped waiting and hoping…

“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep,” she says sharply.

The boy flinches, eyes roaming her face as an understanding settles inside them. He takes a step back, and it’s not the boy Rey sees anymore but the Governor. He has already wrapped himself in steel.

“We’re late,” he states, averting his eyes and tugging on the hems of his sleeves. “Time to head inside, now that the show's over.”

Rey takes her place at his side, feeling as if her limbs are made of stone. She keeps putting too much faith in him. After all these years she still hopes for more than he is willing to give.

But then he sets his warm hand on the small of her back, and something inside her bursts into a flutter.

And Rey feels suddenly very afraid.

For herself.

Chapter Text

She looks exquisite.

And the only thing she’s wearing is a roughly put-together ensemble that is similar to her own clothes. Ben’s terrified to see what she would have looked like draped in a formal gown like most of the ladies at this dinner. Part of him regrets not having given her the dress that now hangs uselessly in his closet. Although, he already knows that no pearls or silks could ever do this woman justice. Because her beauty is as radiant as the sun, and has no need of earthly trinkets to chain her down.

She's sitting quietly next to him now, bright hazel eyes scanning the faces around them. Caressing their minds. His most decadent part wishes he could feel that touch brush against his own mind. Warm and soft and vibrant. But it’s one of the many things he has forbidden her to do. And for good reason.

It would be best for things between them to stay as they are.

He lifts his glass to his lips to taste the fragrant, ruby wine. It’s his second glass. Maybe third. She has barely touched her own, though. Just one sip, with those pink lips wrapping around the rim of her glass like sweet, glistening slices of fruit.

He had to look away at that.

“Which fork do I use this time?”

Her whisper drags him out of his filthy thoughts. He feels her bare shoulder touch the stiff fabric of his formal jacket as she leans toward him, and he recognizes the fragrance of the generic soap the hotel provides, that she seems so fond of. Her beautiful, hazel eyes slide his way expectantly.

He sets his glass down without looking at her.

“We don’t use a fork for cream dessert. We use a spoon,” he says, hovering the utensil lightly over the white tablecloth for her to grasp, without anyone else noticing. The way he has done for her throughout this whole torturous dinner.

“Ah. Right,” she whispers back.

Her spoon hesitates over the small porcelain plate, as she picks up a sugared cherry with her slim fingers.

“Do we eat this?” she whispers again.

Ben uses a piece of cloth to discreetly hide his smirk because he doesn’t believe he can go through another serving of food without bursting into laughter. “Yes,” he hisses instead, and she scrunches her nose at him.

She studies the red cherry for two of his heartbeats before plopping it in her mouth.

Ben shuts his eyes.

Fuck.

He knows he’s not the only one who has noticed her behavior. The Prime Minister of Corellia, amongst a few others, is literally undressing her with his beady eyes from across the table.

Ben leans in to whisper in her ear for what must be the tenth time during this endless dinner. “Don’t use your fingers. How many times must I say this to you? Use the spoon.”

“But it’s so much easier to use my fingers!”

Ben catches her dart a quick lick at the tip of one. Force, this woman will be the death of him. Hopefully, the Prime Minister’s as well.

“Quit acting like a savage.”

She pouts at his chastisement, and sets the spoon down without touching her dessert. Ben can’t help but feel a pang of guilt. A small one. Because he is this close to sucking those fingertips himself— and that would be a bad idea. A very bad idea.

Ben believes he's due for a break.

He slides his chair out and stands up, tugging on the hem of his jacket. “If you ladies and gentlemen will excuse me,” he states. “I’ll be right back.”

A few nods and polite smiles are sent his way, and suddenly a slim hand is gripping his sleeve. Rey is looking at him with wide eyes.

“Where are you going?”

He darts his eyes around, smiling at a couple of amused glances which are cast their way. He looks back at Rey, trying to seem as composed as possible. “I am going to the fresher,” he states in a low voice for her ears only. “It won’t take me long.”

“You can’t leave me here by myself,” she grits at him.

He knows. He’s seen the leery glances and felt the filthy thoughts as well. But he really needs to get away from her, even for just a few moments. To clear his mind before he does or says anything reckless.

He pulls her hand away gently, and avoids looking at those pleading eyes. “Rey, I’ll be back soon.”

Ben strides away as fast as good conduct allows.

Once he’s out in the large entrance hall, he rakes his hand through his hair and rubs at his face. This night seems to be dragging on forever. He doesn’t know how much more he’ll be able to endure. And he hasn’t even had the chance to catch up with the Chancellor of Plexus yet about the number of starships their world will be contributing to the Republic Fleet. It’s a fairly urgent matter.

Rey has been too distracting.

He lets out a long exhale, trying to compose himself, and decides to go to the public fresher, after all. He comes across an older couple, who bow their respects to him, while he nods back curtly. He barely avoids bumping into a waiter and his heavy tray. He’s just a turn away from the men’s fresher when the sweetest looking Twi’lek crosses paths with him, dressed in a tight, low-cleavage dress. She sashays her way towards him, sending a coy smile, and Ben barely restrains himself from grabbing her thighs and pushing her into a closet to take her up against the wall.

He slams the door to the fresher open.

Thankfully, there isn’t a soul inside. He hits the running water, splashing a good amount of it to his face and wishing his lustful thoughts could wash down the drain along with it. He raises his eyes to the mirror, watching the beads of water fall down his face and into the puddle in the sink. The dripping sound resounds in the large room.

I need a good fuck. Ben realizes.

In fact, he needs more than one. He needs a whole seven-day binge.

Rey is off-limits. Of course. Strictly so. Even though he knows—Force help him, he knows—how incredible it would feel to get his way into her tight little cunt, if given the time. Jeff, it seems, has already figured out the best way to go about it—and he definitely needs to have a word with him about that—but when it comes to himself, Rey is most certainly and categorically ...off-limits.

He would ruin her in every sense of the word.

And he simply. Can’t. Do that.

“Fuck!” He grunts at his reflection.

Ben pushes himself off the sink and starts pacing the fresher. He needs to get laid. It’s been a couple of weeks, and both the attempted assassination and the Senate assembly have been very taxing on his already precarious temper. He needs to vent some steam. And he hates to admit it—but he knows exactly where to go.

Time passes. Ben doesn’t know how long it’s been, but by the time he does return to dinner he’s better composed and much more cool-headed.

“Ben, you never did tell us where you came across your Jedi. Or how you convinced her to remain at your service?”

He glances at the Prime Minister of Corellia, who is taking a sip from his wine, eyeing him shrewdly. No, Ben has not missed the innuendo behind the older man’s words. He smiles with icy politeness as he takes his seat. He glances quickly at Rey, who has her hands curled into fists on her lap.

He shouldn’t have been gone for so long.

“I admit,” Ben smirks, settling against his chair. “I have taken advantage of my connections. Luke Skywalker is my uncle, if you recall.” He pauses, fixing his narrowed gaze on the Prime Minister and sharpening his claws. “If, however, you are willing to sign the Western Regions trading routes over to Coruscant, then perhaps I could put in a good word for you, Frederick, and help you get a Jedi of your own.”

There are a few chuckles around the table, and he can feel Rey’s eyes on him. Ben tries really hard not to look back.

“Would one be worth the price? I would hate to give up such an important sector without being well compensated.”

“Now, now Frederick…” his wife sets her hand on his forearm, sensing the escalating hostility.

“I’d say it’s the other way around,” Ben says with a curl of his lips. He hates where this is leading but he doesn’t want any more attention on Rey or the Jedi. It would be best to keep this at a light banter. He arches his brow. “You should be asking yourself if what you are willing to give up is enough for their valuable services. Their loyalty is a fickle thing. One must... work hard to earn it.”

There’s a burst of laughter, which Ben hopes is enough to lead the conversation elsewhere. The President of Chandrila is gracious enough to intervene and comment on the latest developments in the Outer Rim, and Ben would wipe his brow under different circumstances. His mother did always respect the man—and for good reason.

But alas, his intervention is not sufficient.

“And how about you, darling,” a melodious, graveled voice chimes in. The High Ruler of Arkanis has her attention on Rey. Ben purses his lips, fingering the stem of his glass. He was really hoping she would choose not to comment. “How does it feel watching over one of the galaxy’s most powerful men? It must be a tedious task. Ben can be very difficult. I don’t know how you put up with him!” The woman smiles behind a thin stream of smoke coming from her cigarette.

Ben shifts in his chair, feeling as if he's sitting on coals.

He glances at Rey, intent on making some kind of comment that can take the attention off her for good. He can sense the tension humming around her like a halo. He’s about to say something when her clear voice rings around the table.

“I’m here to find out who is behind the attempt on his life. Perhaps you could help me.”

The light chatter quiets at once, as everyone turns to look at Rey. She’s sitting with her slim body rod straight, and her head held high on an elegant neck. But she seems anything but delicate and weak.

The woman chuckles, averting her eyes. “Such fire! It’s such a relief to have the Jedi Order guarding the galaxy once again, isn’t it? Ben, you must bring her to more events. She seems to be quite a delight.”

Rey’s clear gaze is still trained on the woman, studying her every move without taking a single breath herself—probably going through her thoughts already.

Ben bites his lip. He’s not particularly happy about what she’ll find.

The woman pushes her chair back. “Well, this has been a lovely evening with you all, but I must leave you now. Some matters to attend to. Rey, it has been a pleasure.” They all rise to give her their goodbyes as she goes around the table, kissing and smiling charmingly at everyone, her black formal dress ruffling against the floor.

Ben leans to kiss her cheek politely, when he feels her whisper in his ear. “You should bring this delightful creature along with you, later,” she says, sliding her hand up his chest. ”We’re in desperate need of a new pet.” She smiles as she pulls away.

Ben nods crisply, without saying a word. When he sits back down, Rey is looking at him with the stoniest of expressions on her beautiful face.

He picks up his glass and takes a long sip, pretending he hasn’t noticed. The wife of the President of Chandrila asks Rey a polite question, and Ben wants to thank the stars for the woman’s intuition. He decides to turn his attention finally to the Chancellor of Plexus.

They, too, depart not long after.

It’s a pleasant temperature outside, despite the fact that it’s almost midnight. But he can see the light shivers going down Rey’s body as they stand at the landing area of the restaurant awaiting their shuttle. The reporters are gone and the crowd had dispersed, and Ben is allowing himself to enjoy the silence of the evening.

“You should have told me she was your fiancée. I had no idea who this woman was.”

Or not.

“What are you talking about?”

“That woman in the black dress and red lips and the...” she gestures with her hands,”…the smoking thing. You should have told me she would be at the dinner.”

Shit.

Ben shuts his eyes in the dark, hoping she’s not aware of his reaction. He wants the earth to open up and swallow him whole.

“That’s not my fiancée,” he states.

“Then who is she? She seemed to be very intimate with you and—” She stops cold, and Ben can practically feel the moment of realization settling in. “Oh…”

Right.

“She’s a friend.” He admonishes because he wouldn’t miss the chance to grind that in. “And she is not your concern.”

Her breath hitches, and there’s a slight feeling of satisfaction at having bested her. But it’s almost infinitesimal. Mostly he feels like the asshole he is.

She doesn’t say anything back, just looks away.

Another shiver runs down her spine, and Ben presses his lips together. He should have arranged for some kind of a cloak or cowl for her to wear, but everything had been done in such haste that it hadn’t even crossed his mind. The stylist should have been the one to consider it—but it no longer matters. The woman won’t be working for him anymore. He’ll make sure of that.

Ben unclasps his cloak, approaches Rey carefully, and drapes it over her slim shoulders. She swivels around, surprised.

“I really don’t need this. The shuttle will be here any moment,” she reaches for the heavy fabric, but he stops her by grasping her arms lightly.

“You’re shivering,” he says, securing the clasp so the cloak won’t slip off. She’s so slender that she seems to drown in it. “The last thing we need is you catching your death.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been through much worse temperatures with—”

“Rey.”

“Luke when we had gone to Kijimi to—”

“Rey. ”

She stops.

“Just wear my cloak. It won’t kill you.”

Her eyes look so big the way she stares at him, and they shine under the city’s lights. Almost as if they’re made of crystal. Ben lets his hands linger on the clasp over her neck a heartbeat or two longer than he should.

“I don’t need your help,” she says suddenly.

“It’s only a cloak, Rey.”

“I’m talking about the discussion back at the restaurant,” she snaps. “You don’t need to speak on my behalf. Your world is much more corrupt than I originally thought, and I don’t like the games you play. The Jedi are not your pawns.”

His hands drop. Because, of course, she wouldn’t accept one semi-decent gesture coming from him.

“Everybody is a pawn when it comes to power,” he states icily. “You’ve been locked out of the real world for far too long philosophizing and meditating on your precious Force.” He leans in, starving to get that reaction from her that he so craves. And it works—because he senses her unease and chases after it like the predator he has become. “You wouldn’t survive a single day in mine with that pretty head of yours filled with the romantic ideals of your Order. You don’t know what it’s like. So don’t judge me.”

Rey is staring at him with little short heaves coming from her chest, and pink cheeks glowing in the darkness. 

He licks his lips. She steps away. 

She reaches for the clasp again with trembling fingertips.

“Don’t you dare take that off,” he growls.

“I don’t want it!”

“I don’t care! What are you trying to prove?”

“I’m not your plaything! I’m not someone you can dress up and parade for all to see. And I am most definitely not your pet!”

His heart stops.

His hands cup her fingers before he can stop himself. And he doesn’t understand what’s gotten a hold of him. All he knows is that he’s being a jerk, and she has overheard a discussion she shouldn’t have.

“I know, Rey! I know you’re not. And I don’t want you to be.”

She freezes and looks up at him with those big, glistening eyes, and he sees his whole world teetering on the edge of a cliff inside them. He tugs her fingers away from the clasp. They feel so cold in his hands.

“But what you said to her—”

“It doesn’t matter what I said to her. I was trying to get her off my back.”

“So you won’t be joining her later?”

Ben hesitates.

Yes. He wants to say. He needs to get his mind off of those clear hazel eyes staring at him. He needs to fuck and get that pent-up rage out of his system or, Force help him, he won’t be responsible for any of his actions around this woman.

He shuts his eyes in the shadows. It’s really none of her business. All he has to do is drop her off at the hotel and go on his merry way. It’s that simple.

“Ben?”

“No.” He’s such a bloody idiot. “I won’t be joining her. I’ve had a difficult day and I’m tired.”

He will regret this till the end of his days. Ben just feels it. He lets go of her hands and takes a step back, looking at any place else than the expression of relief on her beautiful face.

He hates himself and wants to take those words right back. But then their shuttle pulls up, and she is still wearing his cloak, and he can swear that’s a smile on her face as Rey climbs onboard. Ben rakes his hand through his hair.

What have I done?

He can’t believe what he’s just done.

Ben clenches his jaw and glares at the stars because he knows exactly what he’s done. He’s given her too much power over him—and it needs to stop.

He follows her inside the shuttle and settles broodily in his seat, while Rey looks out her window wrapped warmly in his cloak. Ben vows he will not allow her to influence him ever again.

No more guilt.

He promises to himself as he orders the driver to take them back to the hotel.

No more hesitations.

Rey’s soulful eyes catch his in the shadows of the shuttle, and something clenches painfully inside his chest. Ben looks out his own window.

No more compassion.

Because he simply cannot let her in any more than he already has.

Chapter Text

It is a restless night.

Rey tosses and turns, falling in and out of sleep with images of leery gazes and sly smiles, cigarettes and glasses full of ruby wine. There are blinding lights and black gloves, warm hands and slender fingers running up a man’s chest. And amongst them all, a deep voice that breathes and whispers in her ear, telling her not to be afraid--

She wakes up startled at the crack of dawn, with her shirt drenched in sweat and her heart beating like that of a fleeing animal’s. She fumbles for a midnight cloak to drape over her shoulders with a mind hazy from sleep— but it’s not there. And neither are those consuming eyes and pale face that have kept her company throughout her dark sleep.

Ben is gone. Only a lingering scent of musk has been left behind.

She remains huddled in bed until the morning light chases away every last shadow from her room. She then proceeds to spend an extended amount of time in the shower, with her aching head leaning against the cool tile, allowing the water to wash away the previous night from under her skin. But when she steps out, she feels anything but rejuvenated.

It was the last night on Hosnian Prime. Kaydel has already given her the schedule for the next week— and it’s loaded. She gathers her belongings reluctantly, and decides to head to the hotel’s restaurant for breakfast. In all her days, there hasn’t been one time where getting food in her stomach hasn’t helped her feel better. Even for a bit.

Jeff is already there, sitting at a small table by one of the large windows of the hotel’s breakfast room, munching on a bagel and tapping on a datapad. Rey slides in with her tray filled to the brim with fruits, cakes and eggs, a glass of blue milk and a cup of her newest infatuation —caf. She figures it should all be enough to sustain her for the day in case they don’t get to have another meal.

Jeff raises an eyebrow, curiously. “Are you planning on eating all that?”

She looks at him as if he has sprouted a second head. “Why wouldn't I?” She opens a can of yogurt and dumps a spoonful of honey in it. And then a half more. Jeff smiles, while Rey digs in. It’s not until she’s halfway through the tray that she decides she feels somewhat more like herself. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and then proceeds to ask him what has been stuck on her mind since the wee hours of the morning.

“Do you think you could help me look up some information?”

“Concerning?”

“Some people I got to meet yesterday,” she answers through a mouthful of buttered bread. “I’d like to look into their files.”

Jeff hesitates, setting down his own cup of caf. “I might have to run this by the Governor. Some of the information might be too private.”

“You said I had access to everything I needed to see.”

“Yes, but—”

“The Governor has more pressing matters in mind. He doesn’t need to know.”

Jeff hesitates and fiddles with his fork. Rey might or might not be using the Force to nudge him into compliance. He probably would have relented anyway in the end. Why waste any time?

“Who do you want to check out?”

Rey sends him a bright smile. “The Prime Minister of Corellia, the President of Plexus and—” most importantly, “the High Ruler of Arkanis.”

Jeff shakes his head, smiling back. “I guess I could arrange that. For a price.”

Rey furrows her brow. “What price?”

He leans in, crossing his forearms on the table. “I get to take you on a tour of Canto Bight. It’s our next destination. There has been a change of plans.”

Rey halts her spoon in mid-air and looks at him. That's an odd offer... She thought he would have asked for something along the lines of teaching him a few saber moves or Jedi forms. But she’s heard stranger things.

Rey shrugs. She figures there’s no harm.

“It’s a deal.” She sets down her spoon and extends her hand for a shake.  She is taken aback when Jeff reaches out to wipe away crumbs from the side of her mouth with the pad of his thumb.

“It’s a deal,” he says.

For some reason Rey feels rather uncomfortable with his gesture. It's as if he’s crossed some kind of an invisible line without permission. But, truth is, she likes Jeff. He’s fun to be around and she has a good time with him. There’s no reason for his boldness to bother her. Rey can’t quite explain it.

She pulls away from his touch and looks to the side.

And freezes.

Standing by the entrance of the restaurant and conversing casually with Amilyn Holdo, is none other than the Governor. And his heavy gaze is already trained on her.

Rey feels as if she’s been caught doing something very, very wrong.

Which doesn’t make any sense, if she thinks about it. She’s simply having breakfast with Jeff, who is his Public Relations manager, and the one person that is helping her gather the information she needs for his own security.  Everything is perfectly reasonable and justified.

The Governor tears his dark eyes away to look back at the Minister, and Rey feels as if he’s torn a bit of herself along with him. There’s an ache twisting in her stomach and it has nothing to do with hunger.

She stares at her plate, all appetite lost.

There's something different about him today that she' can't quite place. He’s no longer dressed in his politician robes, but in civilian clothing— so that's one thing. Granted, they are still black and probably obscenely expensive, but there’s a simplicity to his informal ensemble and a carefully set roguish air about him that she hasn’t seen until now. He seems almost... approachable. It’s probably why she hadn’t noticed him earlier. Who knows how long he had been standing there. Looking at her.

She glances back.

But he is already gone— 

Jeff signals it’s time to get moving. The Governor’s ship is probably prepped and ready to go.

She quickly complies.

The jump to hyperspace is uneventful, and Rey spends her time in the ship’s data, looking up the people at yesterday’s dinner. Hoping to find some kind of a lead.

She has barely seen the Governor because he's spent his time buried in the Conference room in discussions and holomeetings. He hasn't asked her to join him once. Rey doesn’t want to admit how that makes her feel after the time they spent in each other’s company yesterday evening. It hadn’t been too horrendous, she believes. Although he hadn’t exactly been cordial towards her, either. Mostly he chose to ignore her during dinner, and only bothered to pay attention to her when she asked for help. But he did offer his cloak later in the evening to keep her warm—which must count for something.

Rey shuts her eyes. 

She tries hard to push away the indecent image she had stumbled across in the woman’s mind. It’s none of her business, she tries to convince herself, what he chooses to do in his personal life—  no matter how much she might disagree with his decisions. He is engaged, after all. Even though he hardly acts like he is. Rey feels frustrated with his infidelity and complete disrespect towards a woman he supposedly loves.

He’s changed so much…

She sighs and rubs her temples. She can’t imagine what has possibly gone so wrong in his life. Rey's starting to doubt if there's anything half-decent about him anymore.

A loud beep pierces the silence in the room. Rey nearly jumps off her chair.

She glares at her comlink and the message blinking on its screen.

.

.

.

“You wanted to see me?” Rey asks as she walks into the Conference room. She quickly snaps her mouth shut, because there's a holoprojection of a woman on the table that seems to be talking to the Governor.

His eyes fall on Rey and quickly return to the woman. She can’t see the holoprojection very well from where she stands, but she notices that the woman has long, dark hair and is dressed in a traditional formal gown. She has her back turned.

“I can’t stay much longer,” he says softly, and his tone of voice settles uncomfortably inside Rey. “The Jedi has just walked in.”

“Contact me before you go to bed. I should be back by then.” The holofeed says.

“You look stunning. I hope all goes well tonight.”

“It would if you were here— ”

He smiles, and Rey feels her heart stop. She hasn’t seen him smile. Not since they were— 

She wants to turn around and leave. The feeling that she's invading something private, something that she would much rather not see churns painfully within her. But no. Her feet remain glued to the floor and her eyes fixed on his face.

He sends the woman his farewells before shutting off the holoprojection.

Rey swallows around a tight throat.

“Who— who was that?” Rey feels so stupid all of a sudden, because obviously that woman is— 

He arches a brow and does not answer.

The lights are dimmed, and there’s a certain kind of disquietude in the Force. He sits at the table with a datapad in hand and his mug of caf half empty. His jacket is draped over his chair, and his shirt loosened around the neck. Sleeves rolled to the elbows and hair mussed up beyond recognition. It’s the most unkempt and exposed she’s seen him until now. No cloaks or heavy robes. No stiff jackets and gloves. No stylists and managers and assistants and shrewd politicians.

Just him.

It makes her feel just as vulnerable.

He sets his cup down, but he doesn’t look at her. Instead, he rubs his temple as if he's contemplating his next words. Rey shifts on her feet. When they parted ways yesterday he seemed as distant and cold as ever, despite that little unexpected moment of closeness between them at the restaurant’s landing bay. He had been almost caring then. It seems now, that whatever progress they had made has evaporated into thin air.

“We need to set some ground rules,” he says, getting off his chair. His steps are measured as he approaches. Wary.

“What kind of rules?”

He comes to stand before her, but somehow he remains far away. Even if she tried to touch him he’d still be out of reach.

“You're here for my security— and that alone. Which means that our past does not matter. You will act accordingly.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he takes one step forward and immediately stops before he comes too near.  He clenches his jaw. “It means that you will not interfere in my personal life or—”

“I have done no such thing—”

“Or state any kind of opinion about my decisions. You will always be by my side, but you will not interact with anyone in my immediate surroundings unless—”

“How can I possibly not interact—?”

“Unless there's a threat against my life. You will be discreet. Silent. And efficient. Just like everyone else working for me. Am I clear?”

She shakes her head in confusion. “I really don’t see why it's necessary—”

“Am I clear?”

His eyes are simmering with irritation that Rey has been well acquainted with. But she still finds herself staring at him completely dumbfounded.

“But Ben— ”

“Don’t call me by my name!”

He has taken another step forward, coming to tower over her. Rey can see the dark circles under those seering, sleepless eyes.

“Why are you keeping me at such a distance? I don’t understand—” she whispers.

“Because you don’t belong in my world and I should have never dragged you in it. Last night was a mistake.”

Rey feels as if the wind has been knocked out of her. A mistake? “Which part was a mistake?”

Ben looks to the side. “I'll make sure you are provided with a decent wardrobe since you'll be accompanying me to a number of worlds and their respective climates. You will be by my side when I’m in need of your services and—”

Rey clenches her fists. “I asked you which part was a mistake.”

“And in your spare time you can—”

“Answer me!”

“All of it! All right?” He growls. “The whole damned night from the moment you stepped into the elevator with me to the moment I dropped you off at your room.” His face is a breath away from hers, and Rey can literally feel the Force pulse around him. He rakes his hand through his hair and steps away with a curse.

Rey stares at him as if he’s lost his mind.

“What have I done? For Force’s sake, what have I done to you that you can’t bear to be in my presence?”

“You make me remember!  You make me remember times that I wish I could forget!”

“But I always thought—” She shakes her head, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. “I always thought you liked being in Luke’s academy. I thought you wanted to become a Jed—”

“Exactly,” he snarls. “But clearly that was not my path.”

“Ben can’t stay in the academy, Leia. He must not be trained in the Force. That is not his path…”

Rey will never forget the look of despair on the boy’s face when Luke Skywalker told him that he had to leave. The feeling of losing the ground from under her feet has haunted her until today. Ben had been her constant teacher and companion for nearly two years. Rey trusted no one else. Not even Skywalker.

Ben had been her world.

She closes the distance between them. Rey can’t accept that all that’s left of her in his mind are painful memories.

“I always wanted what was best for you— ”

“You should have never told Luke about the nightmares.”

“I never thought he’d send you away! I was just a child. All I wanted to do is help. You can’t blame me for that!”

His jaw clenches as he looks down at her. Rey wishes there was a way to turn back time.

“I’m sorry, Ben. I’m so sorry...”

“Do you think an apology will make it all better? How convenient it must be for your conscience."

Is his opinion of me this bad? 

All these years that she has spent worrying about him, asking Master Skywalker when Ben would return, or eavesdropping on conversations just to hear that he is well,  seem to be in vain now. She had been so disappointed to hear of his digression as a character, and at the same time she had secretly hoped it was all rumors. Misconceptions that would be cleared if she were to see him again. But now she has inevitably come face to face with the truth. Have all these years of worrying been for nothing?

“You resent me,” she says, and, oh, how the truth of this revelation hurts.

He leans in. “I don’t care enough anymore to resent you.”

His dark eyes study her behind that politician’s face he wears so well. Rey wants to rip it off and find the teenage body that must surely still be in there—somewhere.

“You used to care,” she whispers.

“It belongs in the past. You— belong in the past. There's no place for you in my life anymore. The sooner you accept that, the easier your stay will be.”

Ben is looming over her making her chest throb, and he is looking at her with those black eyes that burn like coals, and nothing, nothing could ever cut as deeply as those words that have just come from him.

I don't care enough to resent you...

Something inside her feels like it has cracked.

“How can you be so cruel?” Now her eyes are starting to sting, and surely tears will start sliding down her cheeks, and Rey hates this because she hasn’t cried in years. Not since he went away— 

Damn him.

She turns around because she doesn’t want him to see. She can’t let this man see the tears she sheds for the boy.

And suddenly she feels him behind her, his body almost pressing against her back. It’s solid and warm and large and makes the world shrink into an insignificant speck. Rey feels like her knees will give out on her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said—” He breathes into her hair, and her own breath ceases in return. 

“You’re not a burden, Rey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said…”

She sees the phantom of a teenage boy through teary eyes, just as the man looms solidly behind her.

Rey doesn’t understand why her constant company would bother the boy so much. She’s quiet and does as he says and doesn’t kick around in her sleep. She doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t want her around.

Rey blinks in the large, empty Conference room. The past seems to intertwine so easily with the present.

“You can't take words back,” she whispers. "Just the way I can't turn back time."

He huffs a burst of frustrated laughter and hastily steps back. A shiver runs down her spine at the coldness that rushes to replace his presence.

Rey fights not to turn and look at him. Not to give in to this urge to wipe away all the painful things he's said these past few days. He seems regretful but she doesn’t know what to believe anymore. He gives her crumbs of affection, only to steal them back the next moment.

She hates it.

It takes her a few moments to compose herself. When she eventually turns around he has retreated to the room’s window where hyperspace is running by, whirling and spinning endlessly into infinity. He has set his palm on the surface of the transparisteel with his back to her. Rey stares at the man illuminated by cerulean waves. He looks as if he carries the weight of the world on those hunched shoulders, and she wishes, despite it all, that she could do something to help him with the burden.

“Please go,” he says over his shoulder. “I need to be alone.”

Rey swallows, willing the last of her tears away. “Forgive me. Forgive me for betraying your trust so long ago.” She tries to sound cool and composed, the way he always does— but fails miserably. “I never meant to hurt you.”

There’s a sudden hissing of the doors that makes both of them flinch. Kaydel strides inside uninvited with her datapad in hand. She halts, darting her eyes between the two of them.

They must both be quite a sight.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, sir.” She clutches the datapad to her chest almost like a shield. “We have arrived in Canto Bight. I just thought to inform you.”

Ben nods briskly from his window.

Rey takes her leave as silently as always.

Chapter Text

Canto Bight is…impressive.

Rey has to admit this much.

Their ship has landed on a private platform of the most luxurious hotel she has ever seen, fitting in perfectly with the rest of the sleek aircrafts docked along the perimeter. It is meant to remain planetbound for the next three days. The crew has been dismissed with vague instructions to remain in the vicinity, and with no other obligations than to be ready to depart immediately, if called upon. Jeff doesn’t seem to be particularly worried about them leaving any time soon, though.  

Ben—or the Governor, she should rather say—is here for entertainment purposes.

He is impeccably dressed, as always, in his customary black colors when he emerges from his rooms. Rey falls to his side,  escorting him across the vast landing bay, through the hotel’s glamorous lobby and into the extravagance of the casino—matching his swift heavy stride to perfection. It’s a boisterous and crowded building, this casino they are in, with bright lights and cheering voices, endless tables of games and buffets overflowing with food. It’s filled with gamblers and players, and all-around exorbitantly dressed humanoids and aliens with nothing better to do than waste their credits on gambling, food, and Fathier racing.

Rey clamps down the part of her that revolts to such splurging.

She manages to stand silently next to the Governor while people bow their respects and seek his attention on trivial matters that ordinarily make her fume. She even tolerates some of the more coy advances on him without blinking an eye. 

Surprisingly, the Governor is behaving rather well too.

He takes the time to introduce her to some of his most respectable acquaintances, keeping her constantly at his side and not in back of him while he mingles with the crowd. He even goes as far as to look directly at her when he inquires if there's something in particular she’d want to eat or drink.

Rey finds herself at a loss of words. She's only able to shake her head and look away under the intensity of his dark eyes.

She had expected him to be distant and indifferent towards her tonight, the way he always is. Not showing off this... nicer side.

It can’t be good.

She keeps telling herself—the politeness and consideration. Surely it won’t last long.

The Governor, at last, takes a seat at the bar, his presence casting a gravitational pull to a good number of the casino’s occupants. He nurses his drink and begins to chat with a man in a mustache who is wearing a pristine white suit and a red flower on his lapel.

Rey stands discreetly a little further away, in the shadows of a small alcove— just like he had demanded of her earlier aboard the ship— and scans the crowded room for any sign of danger. She catches herself stealing quick glances at him a lot more often than is probably needed.

There has been a relaxed smirk playing on his lips throughout the whole evening, even though his eyes seem to be rather melancholy. She's starting to pick up on those little creases of his features that give out his very well guarded emotions. It makes her wonder how much their earlier dispute has affected him.

Rey is unable to look him in the eye without thinking about it.

She shifts on her legs. Her new black outfit might be clean and crisp, but it's also very uncomfortable and warm—itchy too. She tries not to bristle too much, despite the fact that she has been on her feet for the past three hours refusing to eat or drink. The results of her stubbornness are finally catching up with her. Her tongue feels as dry as the soles of a scavenger's boots on Jakku, and the casino’s overcrowded space is not making things any easier.

The Governor’s eyes catch her shifting once again, and he signals for her to approach. She complies, reluctantly, hoping her discomfort hasn't been too obvious.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asks carefully, as she comes to stand next to him. He’s sitting on a barstool that brings him close in height to her own. It also gives her a very direct close-up of his face under the bright lights of the casino, and Rey finds herself studying every single curve and line on his features with a curious, newfound fascination. He's grown into them so well, she notices. Not much remains of the gangly teenager she used to follow around as a girl. He looks mature, vigorous and … manly. 

Rey can't get over how much he has changed.

"Rey?"

"Hmm?"

"I asked if you wanted something to drink—"

"Yes... No." Shit. "I mean—" she sighs, trying to bring down the pattering beat in her chest. His smirk widens a tiny bit, and his eyes crinkle slightly. She must really amuse him. "I mean, I'm not thirsty." She clears her throat before answering back crisply. "Thank you."

His eyes remain trained on hers, studying something that he must have found.

Rey looks away.

"Be a gentleman and buy your lady a cocktail," the man in the white suit cuts in, as he takes a leisurely drag from his cigar.

"She doesn't drink alcohol," the Governor comments, eyes still on her.

"Nonsense, Benny boy,” the man puffs out. “Come here, love. What would you like? If it were up to me, I would have closed down the whole casino just for the company of your pretty eyes."

Rey feels her face heat with embarrassment when the man's hand wraps around her waist. She looks around, in search of an emergency exit. The Governor’s smirk widens even more before he tears his gaze from her. He takes a long sip from his drink.

“You might want to take your paws off my Jedi, Justin,” he says, setting his tumbler down. He sounds amicable enough not to be offensive—but at the same time stern, not allowing any room for misconception.

The man arches a brow, impressed. “A bit possessive now, aren’t we? I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Better not find out.”

The man laughs, and Rey glances curiously at the Governor who is scanning the crowd with an apathy that’s completely at odds with what he's just said. 

The man with the red flower turns to Rey. He takes her hand in his and raises her knuckles to his lips to place a light kiss.

“Enchanted,” he says with a well-practiced, charming guise.

Rey tries to hide the smile forming on her lips. This Justin guy is simply too much.

He then proceeds to place her hand in the crook of his arm. “Perhaps I could steal you for the evening, since the Governor is unable to entertain you properly, and take advantage of your captivating presence. Something tells me you’ll bring me plenty of luck tonight. Shall we?”

She glances at the Governor, trying to decipher his reaction. The smile has disappeared from his lips and he's twirling the tumbler in his hand. But he doesn’t seem interested in stopping her.

Oh, well.

The man gets off his seat with a bit of flourish that makes Rey snort in amusement. He starts cutting expertly through the crowd with her by his side until they reach a crowded table that's hosting a game of dice. He easily finds his place amongst the patrons dressed in crisp tuxedos and silk gowns.

“Don’t leave my side, love,” he says gallantly, handing out the pair of dice and asking her to blow on them. Rey side-eyes his outstretched hand but decides to humor him.

The game rolls.

She glances at the Governor numerous times in the next hour to verify all is well. He remains seated in his spot while a number of people approach him to strike a conversation. He seems engrossed in his talks and hasn’t caught her gaze once.

Rey starts chewing the inside of her cheek.

More time passes.

Justin is gathering his wins once again, when Rey finds the opportunity to look over to where the Governor sits.

Only he is gone this time.

She swirls her head, trying to spot him. But the casino is immense and the crowd is thick. He's nowhere to be found.

Worry claws at her insides.

She stares at the game of dice rolling on the table trying to gather her panicking thoughts. Surely, he mustn’t have gone far without notifying her. Perhaps he’s in the fresher or getting a bite to eat. He is, after all, human, with simple needs. It’s not as if some Dark Force user is slicing his throat this very moment. Right?

Rey digs her nails in the polished wood of the table trying to restrain herself from dashing through the casino and calling out his name. He will throw another one of his infamous tantrums if the reason for his disappearance turns out to be insignificant and she has assembled, in the meantime, the search of the century on his behalf. Rey doesn’t want to make a spectacle of herself the way she had done at the Senate. At least not today.

But what if something truly horrendous is happening to him right now? And she's standing idly in a crowd of overdressed gamblers, staring at a pair of stupid dice roll on a table— how will she ever live with herself?

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding sound in her ears. Her heart will burst if she doesn’t see him in the next two seconds.

“Who’s winning?”

The low rumble of a man’s voice close to her ear causes Rey to snap her head around. The instant relief that rushes through her at the sight of the Governor is more overwhelming than a bulk of cascading waters. She barely restrains herself from wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Who do you think?” she says, trying to sound as indifferent as possible, although, stars, she’s so happy to see him.

That dark gaze softens just a fraction as it lingers on her.

“Don’t you dare take her away, Benny. I’m on a roll here,” Justin pipes in. She is given dice to blow on, once again, but for some reason she feels very uncomfortable doing it under Ben’s intense gaze.

“It’s— I don’t know why he does that,” she tries to explain, feeling very flustered.

“It’s for good luck.”

“Yes, I figured.” Rey feels paint give out under her nails as she scrapes at the polished wood.

The Governor doesn’t say anything more. Simply slides away that heavy gaze to watch the game. Rey does the same.

But it’s hard to concentrate, now. She's so aware of his presence in back of her that she forgets to cheer when Justin strikes yet another win. He's so tall, Rey thinks, that he easily stands out amongst the crowd. But it’s not his height that makes everyone give him a respectable amount of space. It’s something else, entirely. It’s that power he exudes that crawls up her spine and wraps around her body like the evening cloak he’d enveloped her in the other night. That night she can’t seem to be able to get her mind off. It’s all very distracting and overwhelming and… Rey doesn’t know what to call it. She’s never felt anything this intense before.

“Are you all right?”

His question catches her off guard. She feels as if she's about to pass out, in all honesty.

“I’m a bit thirsty. I should have gotten something to drink when I had the chance.”

“Yes, you should have. But you are too headstrong for your own good.”

“I’m actually quite an agreeable person, believe it or not. I know it’s hard for you to accept at the moment, but it’s true.” His gaze is upon her again, as overbearing as ever, but Rey tries to push through. “And there's nothing wrong with you trying to be somewhat cordial towards me and the people who work for you. You’ll find everyone to be a lot more cooperative if you do that.”

She barely finishes her sentence when a waiter approaches them carrying a tray full of refreshments and hands her a glass of cold water.

How—?

Rey frowns, pressing her lips in a thin line. This isn’t what she had in mind by asking him to be cordial. “You really shouldn’t mess with people’s minds. Not without serious cause.”

“It was serious enough.”

“I could have gotten it myself.”

He raises his brow. “And where’s the fun in that?”

Rey rolls her eyes and takes a sip. She highly doubts they’ll ever be on the same level of communication. The Governor looks away.

“Do you ever play these games?” she asks.

He returns his attention to her. “Why should I?”

“I don’t know. You mentioned fun. Don’t you ever relax and have a good time?”

His gaze darkens. It takes him a moment to answer. “My choices of... entertainment are a bit more eclectic,” he drawls.

Rey is forced to look away. He can get so intense at times, and she doesn’t know how to handle it. She feels him shift, coming to speak a little closer to her ear as the table erupts in more cheering.

“These games bore me,” he continues.

“Do they, now?" She snorts. He’s not the only one who can sound derisive. Rey would love to ruffle his stiff feathers. "I imagine it must be hard waiting for your turn to gamble like an ordinary player."

The Governor purses his lips and seems as if he’s trying to hide a smile. “Here, I can show you why. Watch closely.”

“Watch closely…” The teenage boy says as he levitates a few pebbles in the air in front of her big eyes, round in amazement. Ben was always so powerful and full of delightful surprises.

He leans over to place a bet on the table and take the next pair of dice. His chest brushes against her bare shoulder. But Rey doesn’t flinch away. The sensation of his soft shirt and warm body feel familiar and…

Nice.

He shakes the pair of dice in his hand, and just as he's about to toss them out he brings his open palm to her lips. And waits.

She stares at him.

“For good luck,” he mouths at her. There’s a little black strand of hair falling in front of his dark eyes again. Those dark eyes that Rey knows can be golden brown and incredibly soft when they want to be.

Rey blows.

He throws them across the table without taking his eyes off her. The little cubes hit the rail before bouncing on a number, and right when Rey thinks they’re settled, one of them flips.

“A pair of sixes for the Governor of Coruscant!” The house exclaims, and the winnings are passed over to him in a series of loud cheers.

He raises an eyebrow at her.

And Rey breaks into a smile—

It’s not until much, much later that they reach their floor. They had found a comfortable companionship throughout the evening, balancing between light banter and random moments of closeness. They hadn’t left each other’s side once. Rey didn’t realize how quickly time had passed.

But as the turbolift approaches their floor the lightness between them dissipates and is slowly replaced by unease. By the time they reach her room, both of them are completely silent. He stands before her with the most inscrutable expression on his handsome face.

“Rey, about earlier—” he suddenly begins. But pauses. His eyes dart around the corridor for a moment before they return to her, much more resolute. “I want you to know that your presence here is welcomed. I have been—” he pauses again, licking his lips, and Rey can’t help but feel nervous herself. “I have been overbearing towards you and I just wanted to say how—”

“Overbearing?”

“Yes, and—”

“Is that what you call it?”

He exhales and runs a hand through his hair for the first time this evening. “Do you have some other word in mind?”

Truth is, she has quite a few. But somehow that gaze makes her forget them. She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. Go on.”

“What I was trying to say is that it’s good seeing you again. And I am proud of the progress you’ve made in Luke’s academy.”

Silence follows his words as Rey stares at him feeling her throat constrict from sudden emotion. That was the last thing she had ever expected to hear from him. It sounded an awful lot like a compliment, and she really, really wants to believe he means it.

“Rey?”

“Yes. It’s—” she closes her eyes, trying to get her thoughts in some kind of order. She sighs.  “It’s good seeing you too. I wish things could have been different for you.”

He nods and seems to regard her hesitantly for a few moments. He parts his lips, and Rey realizes she’s holding her breath.

“I don’t have anything scheduled for tomorrow morning. I was thinking that perhaps you could join me on a visit to the city’s waterfalls. I hear they are quite a sight this time of year and—”

Rey feels her heart stutter to a stop.

Oh, shit.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes. I’m afraid I don’t have any other opening in my—”

“I can’t come.” Rey scrunches her forehead at how awful her response came out. She hurries to rescue whatever she can. “What I mean is, I would come, but I have already made plans with Jeff and—”

His gaze hardens.

“Jeff?”

Rey flinches at his tone of voice. It sounded almost incredulous. He must really not like the man. There's no other explanation for his mood turning sour so easily at the mere mention of him. She can’t understand why he continues to have Jeff work for him if he obviously can’t stand the sound of his name. But none of that is important now, because Rey can’t help but feel they are back to square one.

“Well, yes. He invited me this morning, and I—” Rey exhales, slowly preparing herself for yet another of his lash outs. She squares her shoulders. “I agreed.”

His jaw clenches. He straightens his back and levels her with the Governor’s gaze she’s come to know so well these past few days. He back steps and clasps his hands behind his back.

“I see.”

He looks to the side. And it suddenly dawns on her that this invitation wasn’t because of some kind of a formal event taking place. Nor was it a request born out of obligation. He seems as if he wanted to spend time with her.

Just her.

Rey doesn’t know how to feel. All she knows is that she wants to thump her head against the wall.

“Maybe some other time we could—”

“No. It’s fine.” He shakes his head to himself. ”It was simply a thought. Either way, I hope you enjoy the tour with your friend. We’ll be departing from Canto Bight in two days’ time. I’ll see you then.”

“In two days?”

He smirks, but there's an emotion akin to bitterness that cracks through his hard facade. “As I said, I don’t have another opening in my schedule. And your services won’t be needed.”

“I don’t agree. Two days is a long time. Where will you be?”

“Around.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He looms over her as dark and intimidating as ever, but Rey feels, for the first time, that there’s more to be revealed if she digs deep enough. “That’s the only answer you’re getting,” he grits out.

He’s upset.

She realizes all of a sudden. She can feel the roughness of his emotions grind like sandpaper in the Force. But he's very good at concealing them, because soon enough it’s as if they were never there.

He bows lightly as he steps away, perfectly reassembled and in complete control. “Goodnight, Rey,” he says with those eyes that had, for a split second, burned like embers now harden into steel.

He turns around and quickly disappears into the shadows of the corridor, and Rey is left staring at his retreating back again wondering what in Mustafar's rivers of lava just happened.

Chapter Text

She is crossing the hotel lobby when she sees him.

He is surrounded by a small group of people, many of which Rey remembers from the night before as being acquaintances he had taken the time to introduce her to. He’s standing next to an exhibit of modern art that the hotel is hosting, in deep discussion as always with a man that Rey remembers as the head of Kuat’s manufacturing shipyards. The Governor is dressed casually in a white collar shirt, charcoal pants and matching overcoat, and has a wide leather belt with a blaster strapped to it. He looks as sharp and impressive as always, despite the weapon hidden in his clothes. A little further away are two of his most trusted guards standing at rigid attention with their hands clasped in front of them and eyes scanning the lobby.

Rey can't help but feel a bit redundant.

She stops a few paces away from the bodyguards and waves hello. They nod back in that crisp, stiff way that always makes her laugh. She wonders briefly if she should walk up to the Governor and greet him as well, but he’s engrossed in his discussions, and after last night’s parting she isn’t particularly inclined to do that. Rey believes she has tolerated his mood swings long enough. And besides, Jeff should already be waiting for her at a shuttle outside the hotel by now.

Loud laughter circles the company. She’s surprised to see that the Governor has joined in, even with something as simple as a light chuckle. A beautiful woman is standing next to him, Rey can't help but notice, who seems to be the center of attention in her dashing white ensemble. She makes a comment for the Governor's ears only and he leans in to listen with a smirk.

That’s when he sees her.

Rey immediately looks away when their eyes meet. She straightens the folds on the soft green tunic that falls over her dark blue leggings, and sets a wisp of hair behind her ear. She feels her gestures coming off as unsure and slightly clumsy. She so seldomly wears any other color besides beige and brown, and she hasn’t let her hair down in months. Perhaps this wasn’t the day to start experimenting with her looks.

But she is going out to have fun, she tells herself. With Jeff. There’s nothing wrong with trying to look like an average humanoid woman for once.

His eyes remain on her longer than expected as his smirk falls away, and suddenly she's beginning to feel very self-conscious. Maybe these colors look awful on her. Maybe the green she picked doesn’t match her eyes the way she thought it would. And her hair—she should have pulled it up in her customary buns, instead of letting it down. It’s so long and plain and always gets in her way. Especially if it gets windy.

Her heart sags. She looks nothing like the stylish and sophisticated women that are in his company. And the Governor knows that as well. He's the one who ordered a closet full of clothes for her, after all.

Rey tries not to stare back at the man that stands out amongst his company, quiet but imposing, and seemingly indifferent to the attention he gathers. She's meant to spend the day away from him. Away from his suffocating personality and obnoxious demands. It will be good for her, she keeps telling herself.

“You look lovely.”

Rey quickly tears her gaze from the Governor at the sound of Jeff's voice. He’s standing a couple of paces away with that heart-warming smile spread wide on his face. He’s offering her a small bouquet of lilies.

Rey’s eyes widen. How did he know she loved flowers so much?

She has barely talked about herself to him. She makes it a point never to let anyone know a thing about her.

“Thank you,” is all she can think to say, bringing the fragrant bouquet to her nose, because damn does she love flowers…

She steals a quick glance at Ben, who has averted his eyes and is listening to an older man commenting on Fathier racing. He has an ominous frown on his face already.

“Are you ready to go?” Jeff asks pleasantly.

Rey nods.

The Governor doesn’t look in her direction again.

Strolling around Canto Bight next to Jeff turns out to be great fun, just the way she expected it to be. It feels so relaxing not to have her guard up the whole time, wondering if she’ll bear some kind of an attack either from Ben or a potential assassin. The city is very picturesque with its buildings made of stone and its narrow roads. Jeff is sweet and pleasant, and takes her for frozen flavored milk and a delicious luncheon in one of the city’s most known restaurants. She talks and laughs and has a marvelous time.

There is no reason for Rey to feel the way she does.

Jeff even takes her on a small cruise at the city’s waterfalls. Probably the one Ben had offered to take her on, she can’t help but remember, and the sight is absolutely breathtaking as the sun’s last rays sparkle in the running waters. Rey finds herself closing her eyes and enjoying the mist settling lightly on her skin and lashes. She feels the warmth of Jeff’s hand on the small of her back and his soft voice mumbling in her ear.

Rey enjoys all this.

There is no reason whatsoever for her to feel the way she does.

It’s late in the evening when they return to the hotel. The sky is a deep violet color, and the planet’s large moons are just beginning to rise. The bars and casinos are full of life, and Rey feels splendid exhaustion taking over her body. Jeff is standing very close to her, and she feels something has shifted in the way they see each other. Rey believes it should feel good after such a lovely day and doesn’t understand why it weighs on her so.

“I hope you had a good time.” Jeff looks at her fondly and sets a wisp of hair behind her ear.

Rey smiles warmly at him. “I did.”

“I don’t want this day to end yet. Would you like to have a drink at a bar?”

“A drink? I don’t think I could handle one after such a day.” Rey believes she’ll end up falling asleep at the bar and make an utter fool of herself.

“Or perhaps we could hang out in my room if you feel too tired. I would like to spend some more time with you.” His expression seems warm and hopeful, and Rey doesn’t want to let him down. But she truly is feeling tired, and she’s afraid she won’t have the strength to walk to her own room if they stay up too late.

“Maybe tomorrow night would be a better time to have that drink. I have to make sure the Governor is safe and has no need of my presence before I promise you anything else.”

“Of course. I understand. ” He smiles, but Rey senses he seems slightly put off.

She reaches for his hand. “I can’t get too distracted. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right. His security comes first.”

Jeff squeezes her hand and reaches for her cheek. He steps closer.

“May I?” He asks as his eyes fall to her lips.

She allows Jeff to lean in and set a warm kiss. It tingles lightly and has a good taste. Rey likes the feel of it. But somehow, it doesn’t seep any deeper than her lips. Her heart beats its regular steady rhythm, and her breath doesn’t accelerate, and there's no sinking sensation in her stomach.

Everything feels pleasant.

Everything feels as it should.

But for some reason they are not enough.

She can’t help comparing him to another presence that always consumes the air around her.

Her chest clenches at the thought of him and suddenly Rey wants to be alone. She bids Jeff goodnight and walks down the lobby towards the elevators.

But she doesn’t want to return to her room. So she strays from her path and heads for the hotel’s bar. Thankfully, not too many people are around since the casino and racetrack are the main attractions in the city at this time of the night.

Rey sits on a barstool and orders a drink, the kind with a fruity sweet taste and a hint of liquor in it, despite her better judgement. She hasn’t had one in ages. Not since that mission she had gone with Nyxx and Meekel in Cantonica, when Nyxx thought it’d be funny to spike Meekel's juicedrink with firewhiskey. Rey had never laughed so much in her life.

She swirls the thin glass in her hand.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

Rey closes her eyes, feeling her stomach flutter at the sound of the deep voice.

Stars… It’s not fair. “Sure. Go ahead.”

She regrets inviting the man to sit, the moment he settles on the barstool next to her. She feels the heat of his body and the weight of his presence in the Force, the remains of his cologne drifting in the air, mingled with scents from his day. The deep rumble of his voice resonates inside her as he orders his own drink: Correlian whiskey.

She feels these details leaving an imprint in her mind. Taking permanent residence in her memory like so many others...

“Did you have a good time with Jeff?”

“Yes. It was nice.” She picks at the little piece of cloth under her glass.

“Is that all?”

Rey takes a sip from her drink. She still hasn’t looked at him— because how can she? That dark gaze peels away every protective layer that she has, leaving her exposed for him to do as he pleases.

“It’s none of your business. I don’t need to answer to you.”

She hears him chuckle. A deep, throaty sound that only seems to anger her. He’s become really, really good at angering her.

“Did you enjoy the kiss?”

Rey nearly chokes at the question. There's no way he had witnessed that. What are the kriffing odds? She coughs a little and sets her glass down. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him bring his own glass to his lips with a small smirk.

“Were you watching us?” She asks, feeling indignant.

“You were standing at the entrance of the hotel. It was hard to miss. Was it your first?” He says around the rim of his glass before he takes a sip.

“I’m not answering that!” She clutches her drink, but she's too afraid to bring it to her lips. He will probably notice her shaking hands.

“Ah, so it was…” He drawls, and she can hear the amusement in his voice. “A pity. He should have done better.”

He swirls his glass playfully in his hand, and Rey stares at hers with a heated face. She can’t believe she’s allowing him to rip apart all the nice memories of her day and toss its pieces in the trash can.

“He’s not good for you,” he says casually after a few heartbeats pound in her chest. “He isn’t what you need.”

“And what exactly is it that I need ?” She swivels in her seat to look at him before she can stop herself, feeling the anger blister and burn inside her. He looks a little drawn, she notices, with his late in the day stubble and messy black hair. He must have run his hand through those thick strands a million times today. At least she hopes it was him and not some—

Rey clenches her jaw. “What makes you think you know what I need? You barely know me. You haven’t seen me in, what? Ten. Fifteen years? I am nothing like the little girl you remember. You’re not the only one who has changed around here.”

“Oh, believe me. I’ve noticed.” He fixes her with that gaze. The kind he uses in his exchanges with some of the posh women that surround him. Rey hates how it feels on her.

“Then what do you want from me? Who gives you the right to voice any kind of opinion about what I do or who I see?”

“You work for me.”

“That’s bantha shit.”

He studies her, twirling his tumbler with those long fingers and curling his lips as if he owns her. Rey barely ever feels rage. She barely ever allows it to take over her judgment. But this man has pushed her beyond limits.

“Don’t think that a couple of games of dice and a half-ass apology can patch things up between us,” she narrows her eyes and watches his self-indulgent smile fall away. “We have nothing in common, you and I. And just because I spent two years of my life worshiping you as a little girl doesn’t give you the right to order me around. I suggest you take a good look at your own personal life and the mess you're making of it, and quit mingling with mine.”

He scowls and Rey knows, she kriffing knows, she’s hit home. “You are engaged for Force’s sake! Don’t think I don’t know what you do behind your fiancée’s back just because I have spent my life training to be a Jedi. I’m not stupid.”

“Leave Hannah out of this.”

“Oh, so you do care! I never thought you had an actual heart beating inside you. Does she know?”

“Rey…”

“Does she, Ben? Or is she some kind of a prize you like to flaunt around the way you do with me?”

“That’s enough!”

His outburst rattles the glasses on the surface of the bar, and a few heads turn to look at them curiously.

Rey straightens her back and shifts in her seat under his relentless gaze. “You are a hypocrite,” she almost spits at him.

“I am not discussing Hannah with you, or the practicalities of my relationship. You might as well get that out of your pretty little mind, sweetheart.”

Rey grits her teeth. “I am not your sweetheart.”

His eyes have turned dark and stormy, and he rakes his hand through those black waves. She watches him under the dimmed lights of the luxurious bar the way she would watch any impending threat or armed opponent. It doesn’t matter if he's just a man sitting for a drink, dressed in his ridiculously expensive white collar shirt. Nor does it matter if she has had those brown eyes haunt her dreams ever since she was a little girl. The revelations that have been brought forth about him have been nothing but disappointing.

“Come here.”

His voice is low and commanding, and Rey wants to shake off the hold it has on her. But she finds herself obeying his order nonetheless.

“Closer,” he demands.

Rey clenches her jaw and holds her ground.

And suddenly his fingers are clasping her chin and lifting her head. She looks at him and prays to every star in the galaxy that he doesn’t feel her pulse spike and her breath quicken. Because she can’t give him this satisfaction.

His eyes roam her face. And something inside her reels under that gaze.

“You are no longer an infatuated, silly girl,” he says in a surprisingly soft voice. “You’re a Jedi. And you have to be aware of the power you hold over the people that surround you. You have to know their emotions and intentions as if they are your own. Jeff is not worthy of you. I suggest you find one that is.”

“And who would that be?’

His eyes drop, and suddenly the pad of his thumb is caressing her bottom lip. Rey stiffens at the sensation and feels it shooting down to every last particle of her body.

“These lips should be worshiped,” he says hoarsely, and Rey finds herself melting under the touch.

Don’t stop.

She wants to whisper to him.

Please don’t stop...

She looks down at his own lips that seem so full and impossibly soft under the light. And Rey wants to know. She wants to know how they taste and how warm they can feel, and that very thought, that treacherous little thought that has slipped into her consciousness, is the most terrifying thing she has ever felt.

“There’s no one here good enough for you,” he drags his gaze back up. “Look elsewhere.”

His hand drops, and whatever spell he has on her is broken. Ben shifts to get his tumbler of whiskey and takes a long drag from it, scowling as the alcohol no doubt burns a path down his throat.

“I don’t want to look elsewhere,” she says softly, staring at his sharp profile, half-hidden behind his disheveled mane of hair. “There’s no one out there for me.”

Except you. It’s always been you...

But Rey doesn’t voice that little thought that has broken free.  Instead, she tries to bury it deep inside her heart, right where she has kept it all these years.

“It’s late,” he says, not lifting his gaze from the amber liquid swirling in his tumbler. “Shouldn’t you be heading to bed by now?”

His forearms are set on the surface of the bar, and Rey sees the bulge of muscle under his white shirt. The urge to rest her head on his shoulder is almost overwhelming. But she can’t do that now.

Ben’s not hers anymore.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed by now ?” Rey stares up at the teenage boy hunched over a heavy book on his desk. There’s a pen in his hand with a drop of ink on its tip, and Rey drags a stool to climb up and look at what the boy is writing. “I wanna stay with you,” she says in a small voice. “I’m not tired.” She sets her head on his arm and studies the boy scribbling under the warm candlelight.

“What are your plans for the morning? Will I need to escort you anywhere?” she asks.

It’s so hard to tear herself from the memory.

“No. Not in the morning. I’ll be…resting. Perhaps later in the day.”

She hesitates and bites her lip, because he still has his gaze trained on his drink. Rey can’t help wonder for a split moment if he sees her as anything more than that little girl he’d saved. If he sees her as more than the protector he demands from her to be. But Ben can be heedless like that. Touching her lips as if it means nothing and sleeping around with women without a hint of guilt.

She slides off the barstool, and just as she’s about to walk away, she catches his eyes on the mirror of the bar across from them. They glisten under the soft light of the bar and a feeling close to longing swims inside them. But he quickly averts his gaze to take another sip.

“Goodnight, Rey,” he turns to say over his shoulder.

Rey nods, pushing and shoving those painful memories back in the forgotten corners of her mind. There’s no point in digging up the past. Nothing good will ever come from it. Things are what they are and… Ben’s right. She’s not a silly girl anymore.

“Goodnight, Ben.”

She has become a Jedi.

Chapter Text

“Ben? Is it the bad dreams again?”

Rey can almost see her younger version pad carefully into a small, dark hut that’s barely illuminated by a pale moon. She can almost hear the soft ruffle of bedcovers, and the sighs of the young man tossing in his bed.

Almost.

Because the teenage boy is no longer before her. Nor is the man he has become.

Rey stares at the Governor’s empty bed and the silver light of the moon that falls on the untouched duvet. She never imagined he’d be gone this late in the night. In fact, she would have never found out about his absence at all, if it weren’t for that urgent call from Luke that got her scurrying out of bed. The information he had disclosed was exceedingly important, so Rey thought it would be best if she seeked to inform the Governor immediately. Even at this late hour.

But Ben, it seems, had made other plans.

“Where did you say he went?” she asks the bodyguard that was unfortunate enough to be stationed on a night shift outside the Governor’s quarters.

Mike scratches the back of his head, clearly in a difficult spot. “I’m sorry miss. I’m not allowed to give out information about the Governor’s whereabouts tonight. Even to you.”

Rey presses her lips.

“There’s two ways we can do this. You either tell me all on your own where he has gone, and we can pretend you put up an admirable fight against me. Or I get the information I need from your mind in a not so subtle way. The choice is yours.”

The guard sighs. “Rey, if he finds out about this he’ll do more than just fire me.”

“I won’t let him touch a single hair on you— even though there’s not much of that. And I promise you won’t lose your job.”

“There’s no guarantee—”

“Mike. Don't make me do this.”

“All right! All right!” The guard sighs, rubbing at his shaved head. “He’s at a private party. The likes of which is… well, not your style. Chances are, he’ll be coming back sometime around dawn.”

“Take me there.”

“Did you just hear what I said? It’s a private party. No one is allowed unless they’re invited. There’s no way around it. The security is very strict.”

Rey steps closer to the guard and fixes him with a stare. The man’s at least a head taller than her and twice her weight, but Rey’s dealt with larger beasts in the past.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Mike.  I simply asked for you to take me to the party. The way I see it, you really don’t have much of a choice. So quit wasting my time and take me to the Governor—right now.”

The man squirms, and lets out a curse under Rey’s unwavering gaze, but eventually relents.

“Fine. But I’m dropping you off and leaving. You’ll have to figure out your own way back.”

Rey smiles. “That’s all I asked for.”

.

.

.

Rey easily flips over the tall high-security fence, landing in a silent crouch within the premises of the grand villa. There are pathways leading all the way to the building’s main entrance, but Rey prefers to remain hidden within the shadows of the small forest that surrounds it. She puts an attacking pair of watchdogs to sleep with a wave of her hand, but avoids coming into any immediate confrontation with the mansion’s security walking the grounds. She’s here to find Ben. No need to turn this into an unnecessary battleground. Rey easily nudges their attention away from her.

She finds a tall tree with thick branches reaching all the way to a second-story balcony, which Rey decides is the best way to enter the villa. She’s up and over the balcony’s marble ledge in a matter of moments. It is so frustrating to see how easily a trained Force user can slip inside with barely any obstacles. Obviously, the same thing had happened in Ben’s estate. Rey can’t believe how stupid and careless he’s been.

The room she comes across when she breaks in through the balcony doors is dark and quiet, but Rey can hear soft music and murmurs coming from further inside the mansion.  A stream of light falls through the semi-open doors, barely shedding any of it in the vast room.

A library.

She realizes, as her eyes adjust to the darkness. A very heavily decorated and ornate library, with antique furniture, plush carpeting and the indisputable smell of molding parchment. Rey, under different circumstances, would have loved to stay and explore its treasures—but there isn’t any time.

She crosses the room in a few silent steps, muffled by the thick carpet, and peeks through the wooden doors.

Her breath stops.

There’s a finely dressed couple walking right outside, chatting and laughing with a flute of champagne in their hand, heading leisurely towards what seems to be the villa’s main staircase. But that is not what has Rey’s breath hitch. Because right across the hall, and in plain sight, is a man and a woman, up against a wall, with their clothes shoved roughly out of the way, and very much in the process of coupling zealously without a care in the world.

Rey’s eyes widen, and her hand flies to her mouth to clamp down a startled yelp. The couple with the champagne glasses glides down the staircase without so much as batting an eye in the direction of the man and woman, who are panting and moaning shamelessly with every slap of skin against skin.

What kind of a party is this?

Rey is too shocked to process what is happening right before her eyes. And that’s when the sensations in the Force start enveloping her. There’s a strange intensity building all around, almost throbbing in nature, that crawls down her spine and reverberates deep inside her. And it feels very, very uncomfortable. A loud cry escapes the woman. Her face slackens in ecstasy, and her legs quiver under the man’s relentless pounding into her body.

Rey decides that she’s seen enough. She slips out of the library and heads towards the opposite side of the hallway, trying to find a decent hiding place for her to gather her thoughts and figure out how to find Ben.

But luck does not seem to be on her side this evening.

“Good evening, my lady.” A rather small, slender old man dressed in a formal tuxedo — a butler?— is standing on the side of the door, flanked by two security guards. He bows lightly at her with a polite smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Rey straightens her back, chastising herself for being too distracted by the couple’s ministrations to pay proper attention to the rest of her surroundings. Of course, this is a high security villa, and her break-in has not gone completely undetected.

“I am here to speak with the Governor of Coruscant,” she says briskly, sizing up the two guards. She believes she can take them out if push comes to shove.

“I’m afraid there is no such guest on our list tonight.”

She turns her attention back to the old man and tilts her head to the side. “You’re lying,” she says. “I know he’s here.”

She can feel him.

Actually, she can feel a lot of people behind these doors, and hear them too. The lust and hedonism spilling in the Force are very potent. And disturbing. And the mere thought that Ben could be behind any of these closed doors partaking in these acts—

“Perhaps it would be best for you to leave, and if the… Governor ever drops by, I could notify him of your visit.”

Rey presses her lips together. She’s running out of patience.

“Perhaps not.” She approaches the man, and one of the details cuts in front of her with his thick forearms crossed in front of his chest.

The older man smirks from behind. But his smile easily falls from his lips when Rey shoves the guard across the hall with the Force and brings her ignited saber to the old man’s neck.

“Where. Is. He?”

The muzzle of a blaster is set on her temple, but the man signals for the remaining guard to stand down.

“The man you are searching for is named Kylo Ren,” he whispers after a moment’s hesitation, for her ears only. “I believe you must be his infamous Jedi.”

Rey clenches her jaw. “Lead me to him.”

“I would advise the lady not to insist. This is not a place for her.”

Rey feels her resolve waver, because she too is aware that this is not a place she would come searching for under normal circumstances. But Ben, it seems, has made it a point to change quite a few of her habits.

“Take me to him.”

The man studies her for a long moment before he nods in reluctance. He orders the guards to resume their posts before he turns to her.

“Follow me,” he simply says with a curt bow.

He leads the way to a smaller staircase. His steps are clipped, echoing down the marble stairs, whereas hers are muffled and barely audible —thanks to her soft new boots and rigorous training. They completely bypass the grand lounge, where elegantly dressed people are gathered under a sparkling chandelier, chatting and murmuring. They are in the process of watching tentatively something that is taking place in the middle of the room.

Rey pauses for a moment when grunts and moans reach her ears, but she can’t make out what has the audience’s interest so captivated.

“This way, my lady.”

Rey hurries to catch up, starting to feel very restless by the sensations permeating the air.

“What is this place? I thought this was a party.”

The man sends her a knowing glance over his shoulder. “It is a private party. The list of guests is small and very particular. For obvious reasons.”

A shiver runs down her spine.

“Some of the faces are masked,” she comments carefully.

“Indeed. There is no need for their identities to be revealed. Even though—” the man chuckles, “they all know who they are.”

They go down another narrow staircase and enter a dark, damp corridor. There are muffled cries and hushed voices, clunking sounds and rhythmic pounding resonating down its length. They seem to drift from behind closed heavy doors and iron bars. But a few of them are cracked open, Rey notices, and even though the first one they come across is empty, the second one is not. She quickly averts her eyes with a heated face at the sight of a several naked bodies on a large bed, intetwined and doing unspeakable things to each other.  

She tries not to look at any of the other cells, as she follows the older man diligently down the dungeon’s corridor.

But in the last one. In the very last room, Rey doesn’t know what it is that makes her stop and look inside. Because it is just as dimly lit as the rest, and it’s decorated just as scarcely. There is a naked woman with her hands bound behind her back, kneeling before a man who sits sprawled on an armchair with his head thrown against its back. He too is masked, but there is something about that ink black hair fanned on the velvet cushioning that seems very familiar. The woman raises her head from between the man’s legs, and his hard member comes into sight, glistening and swollen under the dim lighting of the room. The naked woman stands, straddles his lap and goes down on him with a loud sigh. The man moans a deep, throaty sound that has Rey watching entranced and with eyes wide open. But that is as far as she sees, because there's a rattling of chains and a male humanoid appears behind the door, naked with strange iridescent eyes and a collar around his neck, and slams it in Rey’s face.

“My lady?”

Rey snaps her head up at the sound of the older man’s voice, with heated cheeks and feeling very, very flustered and ashamed.

He leads her into a waiting room, which is damp and dark just like the rest of the underground premises, with a set of small chairs and a very uncomfortable looking sofa in the middle of the room. A number of small, unknown devices are set next to it, one of them looking very much like a red leather whip. Rey is left alone there with buzzing ears and a pounding heart.

She picks up the whip.

This is not what she had in mind when she came in search of Ben. Yes, she had expected to come across some form of a party. Crowded, with music playing, that involved boring political conversations and cold chuckles. Maybe a little drinking and perhaps some illegal spice use here and there.

Rey did not expect—

She shuts her eyes and sets her hand on her heated forehead. What is she supposed to say when he comes into the room? That she was worried sick about him being gone in the middle of the night? Scold him on his choices of entertainment like he so eloquently described them in the casino? Knock him out and drag him back to the hotel?

Rey would love to do the later.

Ben was right. She has no place in his world. But somehow, a little hidden part of her always believed that she did have a place next to him. Which is why she agreed to be his bodyguard, even though she knew how far gone he already was. When Skywalker chose her, out of all his students, to be his protector, she simply couldn’t resist.

“What are you doing here?”

Rey swivels at the sound of a deep voice, hiding the whip behind her back. A masked man is standing at the entrance of the waiting room shutting the doors behind him. He looks—

Stars… He…

Rey swallows as the man approaches her slowly, with his wild mane of black hair clinging to his neck and his black shirt unbuttoned, revealing his broad chest glistening with sweat. The fastenings to his pants are undone, and the clothing seems to ride low on his hipbones. But his rumpled state is not what catches her attention. It’s the mask. Forged from the black metal of nightmares, and rimmed around a pair of dark eyes with the silver color of sleepless moons.

It is the mask she used to see in Ben’s haunting dreams.

He comes to stand before her, tall and dark and dominating, and Rey wants to cover her mouth and drown the cry that’s threatening to come out.

“Ben? Is that you?”

“Why are you here?”

“Why are you wearing that mask?”

She watches as he presses his lips together. Because the mask doesn’t cover the bottom half of his face. The only part that remains human in his features.

“You shouldn’t have come. This is no place for you.”

“I was worried. I didn’t know where you were.”

A smirk plays on the corner of his lips. “You were worried?”

He studies her carefully behind shadowed slits.

“How could you be so stupid and disappear without letting me know where you would be. I thought we agreed that you would fill me in on your plans and—”

“Did you want me to fill you in on this?”

His smile widens, making her feel very self-conscious.

“Well, some form of—of information would have been appreciated instead of just, you know…” she is stuttering, and she hates it, because the way he is looking at her reveals all the ground she has lost already.

“And what exactly did you want me to say? That I would be gone for the night to have sex? I don’t believe you needed to know the details.”

Rey looks to the side, because that mask is unnerving, and his lack of decent clothing is very distracting. And even though he is the one that’s standing half-naked in front of her, she is the one who feels exposed, instead.

“Don’t you have some kind of a cowl to put on?”

“You’re blushing,” he says, lifting his hand to her face. The pad of his thumb brushes lightly over her left cheek, and it feels as if it’s on fire under the coolness of his touch. Rey feels so embarrassed she wants to turn around and run.

Ben steps closer.

There’s a heady scent coming from him, mingled with that musk she’s always so aware of, and Rey is starting to feel dizzy. She knows what this smell is, and why it’s on him, but she doesn’t dare conjure the image of it in her mind. Her stomach starts to twist in on itself.

His cool hand cups her cheek, and his fingers weave in her hair. Rey closes her eyes because she doesn’t think she can remain standing when everything around her is starting to spin.

“Why did you come here, Rey? What is it that you wanted to see?”

She swallows around a dry throat, and refuses to open her eyes. Not even with his warm breath fanning her face. He is close. Force help her, he is so close. Rey has to get away, but her knees are weak, and her chest is aching from the thumping of her heart. She is surprised he is unable to hear it. Or maybe he can, and it’s the reason he is teasing her so.

A large hand wraps around her waist, and his warm body closes the small distance between them. He is caging her in, and Rey is afraid she will never break free again.

His lips come to whisper in her ear, and she feels her whole body break into shivers.

“What should I do with you, my little Jedi?”

The words trickle like pearls down her spine. One by one. Pooling heavily in a place she’s never touched before.

Rey opens her eyes and stares at the masked face. Searching for the man behind it. She can feel his breath mingling with her own, and there’s a want tingling under her skin, gathering down low. Questing for friction against a hardness that is starting to press against her.

She raises a hand to his chest, trying to keep some safe distance between their bodies. His skin is sweaty and hot, and there’s a hammering underneath it that matches her own. But everything is foreign and terrifying and so intoxicating at the same time—

"What do we have here?" His hand wraps around the whip she's hiding, yanking it from her hold. It uncurls with a loud snap in the air.

Rey squirms in his arms. She had forgotten all about it.

But his hold on her only intensifies, and then his face lowers to her neck. And suddenly, his hot breath is caressing her sensitive skin and, oh stars, she thinks those are his lips trailing a soft and wet path down the curve of her neck. It feels so wrong but so, so good  at the same time and—

"So curious, my little Jedi... So brave... Coming here to play with things you know nothing about. " He whispers against her neck, every fine hair on her body rising at the sound of his deep, velvet voice. 

“Ben, I—”

His name falls from her parched throat, sounding anything but the way she intended it to sound. She tries to push him away, but her willpower is so weak in comparison to the sensations that are taking over her body.

And then suddenly Ben freezes. His body stiffens, and his arm loosens around her waist. He doesn’t quite let go, but it gives her enough space to move and breathe. Stars, it feels so good to breathe.

He stares at her for two of her heartbeats. Gaze shadowed under the black and silver mask, red whip uncoiled on his side. Restless— 

Then Ben raises his hand and snatches the mask off. It tugs on the sweaty strands of his hair and reveals a startled face and wild black eyes.

There he is—

Rey wants to sigh with relief.

“You’ve never—” he trails off. His Adam’s apple bobs once. Twice. Before he continues almost reverently. “You’ve never been intimate with someone before. I forgot you’ve never—”

He tosses the whip to a corner of the room. 

Rey stares back at him in silence.

No, she hasn’t. She knows some of the other students have experimented, under Luke’s endless warnings to be careful. That falling in love had been Anakin Skywalker’s downfall to the Dark side. A few of them have complied and have chosen to live a life of celibacy. Some, like Nyxx, have been a bit more adventurous.

But Rey—

Rey has chosen not to get attached in any way. She knows the pain that comes when one's love walks away.

Ben breaks away from her and steps back quickly.

“Fuck!” He growls into the shadows of the room, raking those black strands with his hand. He pants through flared nostrils and seems just as out of breath as her.

It allows enough space for logic to return, and along with it the reason why she had come in search of him to begin with.

She takes a step towards him.

“Don’t come any closer,” he warns in a hoarse voice, stretching out his hand. “I’m not myself. I don’t want to do something that I’ll regret.”

Rey halts. “You could never hurt me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he corrects her. Rey blinks at him surprised, but does as he asks. She is aware of the lewd sensations and basal instincts that are permeating the air, and senses how very much affected he is by them still. He had been, after all, in the middle of such an act when she arrived. Rey swallows at the knowledge that she too had been very susceptible to those sensations just moments ago.

She still is. A lot more than she is willing to recognize.

“Give me a moment,” he pleads, and she nods. He turns around to button his shirt, swearing like a drunken Hutt every two seconds. Rey bites down a smile when he curses loudly in his effort to tuck himself properly into his trousers.

He is somewhat in control when he turns around to face her again. His eyes are still glinting feverishly behind those wet strands, and his cheeks are flushed, but there seems to be some kind of logic in his gaze.

“Luke Skywalker got in contact with me earlier tonight.” She has to say something that will dampen the sensations around them and that’s the most non-erotic thing she can come up with. Rey mustn’t allow herself to be so out of control around this man again. He is so, so dangerous— “He said he wants to speak to you about a mega weapon the First Order has constructed that needs to be stopped immediately.”

The expression on his face is that of utter confusion as he blinks, trying to process what she’s just said. It takes a few moments for the words to sink in, and then suddenly, in a fraction of a second, the Governor is back.

“We have to go,” he states.

“I agree. That's why I came looking for—”

“How did you get in here?”

Rey scrunches her face. “I broke in.”

“And a hell of a job you did at that! Mylo informed me of your trespass and the fact that you threatened to kill him.”

“That’s a bit of an exagerration, actually. I was simply trying to fish information about your whereabouts from him.”

“Do you think this place is a game?” He thunders. “That anybody can stroll inside, have a good time, and go back to their merry lives with no strings attached?”

“I didn’t say it was a game,” she tries to defend herself. “Wait… What kind of strings?”

Ben arches an eyebrow at her.

“Can you cut off your strings? Who’s in charge?”

“Force, I knew you’d be trouble,” he mumbles. “You always were, even back in the Academy.  We’re leaving, before anyone else finds out about your presence here. You’d better count your lucky stars it was Mylo that discovered you.”

“Why are you so anxious about someone finding out about me being here?”

He grabs her hand and starts dragging her out of the room. “Because—” he growls while Rey stares at their clasped hands, “this is a special club, and your ...innocence is not the kind that goes unnoticed.”

She darts her eyes back at his face. She hates when he speaks in riddles. “What do you mean my innocence doesn't go—?”

“It means that I don’t want to end up paying the price for your intrusion.”

They are back in the dark corridor, filled with those mysterious sounds behind shut doors. “You’re not talking about money, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

Rey halts pulling on his hand. “Ben, how could you be part of such a community?”

He too stops and turns to face her, even though he can’t look her in the eye. “I don’t come here often. And I don’t do a lot of the things others do."

"What do the others do?"

"You don't want to know. Trust me. Now, please stop asking questions and move.”

They go down a different corridor that she hadn’t noticed before, and he unlocks a small closet. He grabs his cloak and blaster before taking her hand again and dragging her behind him.

She follows him down corridors and rooms which hold apparatuses Rey is too scared to ask what they are used for. A muffled cry of pain reaches her ears behind a closed door that makes her body go stiff.

"Don't you even consider it." Ben turns to hiss at her. His hand tightens on her wrist pulling her away.

Then they go down another narrow, stone corridor before they reach a metal door. Ben punches in a code and it creaks open for them to go through.

They stumble out into the crisp night air, and Rey hasn’t felt this sort of relief in years. Ben looks up at the stars with his hand holding on to hers tightly, taking in a deep breath. He shuts his eyes and mutters something under his breath. He seems as relieved as her.

“Ben, why are there so many stars in the sky?”

The teenage boy turns his soft brown eyes and looks at her a bit exasperated. “Because every time you ask a question, a new star is born. Now, how about you be quiet for once and try to meditate with me.”

“My shuttle is stationed at the far end of the landing bay.” His deep voice brings her back to reality. He lets go of her hand as he starts to move on ahead.

“Ben?”

“Yes?”

“What was that woman doing to you on her knees?” Rey believes she has an idea, but she can’t resist asking him about it. He was, after all, peeping on her yesterday too when Jeff kissed her.

Ben levels her with one of his most loaded gazes, the kind that sears right through the darkness of night. Rey tries her best to contain the smile twitching on her lips— because she is so damn happy and relieved he is no longer part of what is taking place in that villa. He is here. With her.

He chose to come with her.

“I am certainly not answering that, you little minx. Now get your ass on the shuttle before I show you what actually goes down in that villa.”

Rey nods shyly. And feels his eyes follow her as she moves on ahead.

Chapter Text

Rey had expected him to be pissed.

A lot more than he’s allowing her to sense, at least. This is the second time she gets in the middle of his... needs in the last few days and completely derails his plans. He should be throwing  a hormonal fit by now—  but instead, he sits calmly in the pilot’s seat, with his hand set loosely on the lever, and his gaze focused out the viewport, flying the shuttle smoothly over the planet’s terrain.

They are both very silent. The villa’s erotic undercurrent has dissipated as if it were fog, leaving behind barren land of shame and awkwardness. And maybe a little sadness. At least from her side. Because Ben’s feelings are clamped shut in the Force, and she doesn't believe it's a good idea to go prodding after such a night.

She unconsciously touches the spot on her neck where his lips had set her ablaze, trying to wrap her mind around what had transpired back in the villa.

Rey has been to the filthiest towns in the Outer Rim, digging out the shadiest of characters along with her Master. She has sensed lust and desire in the Force while sitting in bars and cantinas all over the galaxy. But the things she saw and felt in that villa—

Rey presses her lips together tightly.

Why does he do this to himself?

Give in to his basest of instincts and waste his body on meaningless partners. Is he this unhappy with his fiancée? What urge is he trying to satisfy by dominating people even in sex? Rey doesn’t understand. His sexual practices make her feel resentment towards him, and she doesn't like it one bit.

He glances at her.

His expression is guarded in the darkness of the cockpit. Rey doesn’t know what to expect from him when they return to the casino’s hotel— so she has decided to behave the same way. She has fortified her walls against him, and is currently looking out her side of the window at the vast expanse of land stretching into the night, with an expression as neutral as his.

“What else did Luke say?” His deep voice permeates the tense silence.

Rey sighs. “The Stormtrooper gave us the coordinates to a planet that has been turned into a mega weapon by the First Order. He said the Republic will need to strike fast, before Snoke decides to power it up and obliterate a world.” Rey pauses, allowing him the time to take in the information. “He says it’s the next Death Star. Only deadlier.”

Ben clenches his jaw without saying another word. Rey counts the mountain tops in the far horizon. A few more moments tick by.

“About what happened at the villa—” he begins, reluctantly. Rey shuts her eyes. She feared he would broach the subject sooner or later.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she shakes her head in the dark, looking back out the window. “You weren’t in control of yourself and I know it won’t happen again.”

It takes him a moment to answer back.

“Right.”

“We don’t need to discuss this again. It meant nothing.”

At least for him…

Ben remains silent.

The city’s lights begin to shimmer in the distance, and Rey can sense an emotion of regret emanating from him. She too feels it’s an uncomfortable situation they are in, but surprisingly she doesn’t regret what happened between them as much as he does. Perhaps she should feel thankful that he had the decency to release his hold on her when he did. Rey knows her heart would have been left in just as many ruins as her body if it had continued into anything more...

She chews her lip and starts counting the stars. Anything to get her mind off this feeling of self-pity settling inside her.

Suddenly, she tenses.

“Do you feel it?” She asks, searching out her window.

Ben glances at her. “Feel what?”

“I can’t quite— I don’t believe it’s an animal. The thought in the Force is too complex…” It raises the hair on the back of her neck. She reaches for Ben’s arm, digging her nails in the muscle underneath.

She senses him looking at her as his pain spikes in the Force. “Rey? What’s going on? Are you alright?”

“Turn!”

“What?

“I said turn! ”

Screeching sound seers through the metal of the shuttle, and suddenly their world is spiraling out of control as alarms go off and the planet’s rocky surface races up to meet them. Ben curses as he flips switches, and grasps on the pilot’s lever to level the ship, but fire has erupted in the back and they’re falling just too damn…

Fast.

Rey brings her hand up at the accelerating ground in a desperate attempt to slow down their fall. And then everything goes black—

.

.

.

There’s a buzzing sound in her ears, and a throbbing pain on her temple when Rey begins to regain consciousness. And heat. Unbearable heat all around her.

She blinks, staring at the metal overhead and the jagged edges of broken glass reflecting bright orange light.

Rey coughs, bringing her hand to her aching head. Her mind feels so heavy and she has trouble sensing her surroundings, as if she’s in a bad dream, and yet not—because this pounding in her head is informing her that she is very much awake.

There’s a sticky substance smeared on her temple, and her skin stings at the touch. Rey brings her fingers in front of her eyes, trying to discern what the stickiness is, just as a low groan drifts in the stuffy air.

Blood.

She stares at the dark color that’s smeared on her hand. Her blood. What in R’iia’s winds happened?

And why is it so hot in here?

Another groan resounds, louder than the previous one and very anguished. Rey believes she recognizes that voice from somewhere. It’s in her dreams and in the back of her mind, always, day in and day out, a constant companion throughout her life. A fortifying presence in her hours of loneliness. It can only belong to one person.

“Ben?”

A heartbeat passes, and then a deep voice responds shakily.

“Rey?”

In an instant, her senses sharpen back to reality. Everything becomes clear. The metal and glass are the remnants of their shuttle. The heat is because of a fire that has erupted when they came crashing down. And the hoarse voice belongs to none other than Ben, who sounds hurt and very much in pain.

She lifts herself from the broken seat, ignoring the stinging on her temple and the pain on her left leg, and fumbles her way to where she knows he’s seated.

His eyes are already fixed on her, and his pale face has a wide gash running down his right cheek and disappearing in the collar of his shirt. Rey carefully removes a large shard of glass embedded in his face, before she grasps his overcoat and tries to pull him off his seat. But he stops her with his hand and presses his lips. “You can’t—” He whispers at her. “I’m hurt.” He shuts his eyes and drops his head back, scrunching his brow in pain.

Rey notices a metal beam protruding from his left side. Her heart stops.

“Are you alright?” he croaks. “Are you hurt in any way?”

“No, no. I’m ok.”

“Good… That’s good.”

She scans the insides of the crashed shuttle and the approaching fire, trying to assess their condition. Things are definitely not looking good.

Ben licks his lips. “Rey, you have to go and get help. The city is not far away.”

“I know, but I can’t leave you here. The shuttle is burning. I’ve got to get you out first.”

He shifts his gaze around. “There must be a fire extinguisher somewhere. Use that. Don’t move me.”

“Ben, the shuttle is ruined. Even if I put out the fire, it might still explode.” She grasps his hand. “I have to get you out of here.”

Ben shakes his head. “I can’t move. And I’m too heavy for you…” He fixes those compelling eyes on her that glisten under the flames and urge for her to obey. “Please, get out. Call for help.”

She wraps her hand around the metal on his side, instead.

His hand covers hers in an effort to stop her as he clenches his teeth. He’s in pain. Rey can feel it as if it’s her own, and it maddens her to think how gravely hurt he might be. But she’s got to get him out. Rey has to.

Her hand grasps his cheek, the one that’s still intact. “Look at me!” She demands.

His eyes focus on her, and she can sense the quick rise and fall of his chest.

“Look at me,” the teenage boy orders over her pained cries. Her leg hurts, and she doesn’t think she can make it back to the Academy. Rey believes she will die right then and there. “You’ll be fine. I’ll take you to Luke, but you have to help me out. Stop crying and wrap your arms around my neck. I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go. I promise I will never let go —”

“I’m getting you out of here, but you have to help me out. Let me remove the metal from your side. No! Don’t you dare shake your head at me, you stubborn oaf. I have to do this. We have to do this! Ok? Good! Good… Now. Bite down on this. That’s it—”

His muffled cry of pain pierces her heart, and the blood that starts gushing from his wound makes her nearly lose her cool. But Rey steadies herself over him and shatters his side of the window with two strong kicks. Fresh air rushes in. Rey coughs.

Stars, this heat is unbearable.

If they don’t get out of this vessel now, they’ll be burned to a crisp. She sets her hands under his arms carefully. Ben blinks lightly at her, but says nothing.

Rey fixes her gaze on those burning eyes and harnesses the Force to lift.

.

.

.

He tries his best to steady himself on his feet, Rey knows it, but the blood seeping from his wound and dripping on the soft grass is too much, and he soon crumbles to his knees pulling her down with him. But they are far enough from the flaming shuttle that is screeching and melting away in the dead of night.

Ben lies on the cool grass, out of breath, and clutches at his wound. “Just for a moment,” he says in a hushed voice. Rey knows he doesn’t have a moment. She tears his shirt open to reveal the extent of his wound, and rips out the ends of his cloak to press down for the bleeding to stop.

“Hold here,” she says, directing his cold hand over the fabric. She quickly proceeds to unravel her armwraps and tie them around his torso as firmly as possible without causing him too much pain. His breaths are shallow, and his forehead is glistening with cold sweat. And the color on his face is the palest she has ever seen it be.

Ben doesn’t have just a moment. Rey knows she has to call for help.

She starts searching for her comlink, but realizes she has left it back at the hotel. So she fumbles through the pockets of his clothes in search of his. She thinks she finds it deep into the right front pocket of his trousers when she sees his eyes widen. Rey is aware she’s touched places she shouldn’t have, but the expression on his face as his eyes snap to hers is that of terror. Ben does not feel fear easily.

“Run,” he whispers, clutching at her arm.

“Wh—what?” She scrunches her brows, confused. “I’m not going anywhere. What are you talking about?”

He shakes his head, gathering whatever strength he has. “You have to get out of here, now!”

Rey hears a familiar hum erupt a few paces in back of her. She turns her head to look. Three figures emerge from the smoke, approaching ominously like creatures of the night. They are all masked. Two of them are in black armor, and with weapons bared that Rey has never seen before.  But the third one… Stars , the third one is a Force-user, with an ignited red lightsaber thrumming in his hand.

“Please, Rey. You have to go.”

Her breath hitches as she turns to look at Ben, bleeding helplessly on the ground.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“No, no. Listen…” He licks his lips, fixing eyes that plead on her. “They’re after me, Rey. Not you. You can still get away. They’ll kill you if you don’t.”

Rey’s eyes blur as she grasps his hand that’s clutching her arm, and tugs it off. Because he doesn’t have just a moment.

“I won’t let them harm you.”

His face breaks into the most desperate expression she has ever seen.  

“Baby girl, please… Run. Just run!”

Rey stares at the teenage boy clutching at her arms and looking at her with wild eyes. “ Run, baby girl. Run!” He pushes her small body into the forest’s foliage, and stands up just in time to clutch the attacking large feline by the throat with the Force. Rey blinks, terrified, at the boy suspending the wild animal in the air.

She closes her eyes and leans in to set a long kiss on Ben’s forehead. Gods, it feels so cold already. She can sense his agony, feel his hopelessness and despair in his plea for her to run. But Rey sets her own forehead against his gently, reaching out into the Force and gathering it like reins around her wrists.

She rises to her feet slowly and turns around. Reaches for her saberstaff. And ignites it.

.

.

.

One of the armored men might be tall and big, but he's relatively inexperienced with his heavy axe, and Rey easily decapitates him after a few strikes. But the second one is a woman, agile and quick, keeping Rey’s attention on her just enough to allow the Force-wielder to come at her relentlessly. It's a fierce battle on the grassy meadow. The flames eating on the shuttle eventually die out, and soon enough the only light that remains is that of blue and red coming from the clashing lightsabers.

Rey strikes, parries, and strikes again in quick Force assisted movements, trying to keep the attackers as far away from Ben as she can. She barely has time to glance at him and assess his condition. Worry eats at her with every passing moment—because this fight is dragging on too long, and she has to put an end to it. But there are two of them, and they are capable opponents.

Rey grits her teeth and wraps the Force around the woman’s body, pulling her directly on one of her saberstaff’s blades. But the woman brings her steel weapon down on Rey’s leg, and she has to backflip in order to avoid it. The Force-user is waiting for her and strikes while she's still up in the air. Rey swirls away from his weapon and lands in back of him. She kicks his knees, bringing him to the ground and runs her saber through the woman who is already bringing her blade down at Rey.

The woman stumbles and falls to the ground.

Rey barely has time to register her death, because she too is tugged on the ground by the Force-user, and the next thing she knows his red blade is at her throat.

The man chuckles darkly. This sinister, distorted sound that raises the hair on her skin.

“Jedi—” he drawls through his mask. “Snoke will gladly send Skywalker your head. Along with that of his nephew’s.”

Ben.

He is the one and only thought that crosses her mind as she clenches her teeth at the masked figure standing on top of her. That, and the unbearable feeling that she might fail him. She curls her fingers and tries to raise her hand to push the dark Knight away with the Force. But she finds it pressed on the ground—

A crackle of purple light erupts in the night, and the masked man is shoved away from her. It was a weak and unstable spark, but it gives her enough time to jump to her feet. Rey falls in Soresu form—ready to face the assassin again.

But he disappears quickly. Swallowed by the shadows of the night without looking back.

Rey straightens her back and turns. Because she knows exactly where that Dark power has come from.

Ben is standing a few paces away, clutching at his wound with one hand, while the other one remains outstretched. Somehow, she senses he has used this power before.

He collapses to the ground.

“Ben!” She too falls to her knees and crawls to him, because her legs can no longer hold her up. She pushes his tangled hair out of his pale face.

“You never listen,” he whispers, his lips barely moving. "Why don't you ever listen—?"

Her eyes blur and she breaks into a teary smile. “And you’re too stubborn for your own good.”

She fumbles for his wound to see the extent of his bleeding, and only comes across wet sticky fabric covering his whole body.

“Rey…”

She sets a finger to his lips to shush him, and he swallows thickly. His eyes burn with this agonizing need to speak. But he is bleeding to death, and there is no time for words.

“Not now. Stay. And tell me later. Promise me you’ll stay.”

He blinks lightly, but says nothing.

Rey sets her hands on top of the bloody fabric and closes her eyes.

She was never trained all that well in Force healing. It always required too much meditation and focus and Rey never had the patience to sit in one spot. But now she regrets it. She regrets every lost opportunity to learn and practice on padawans back in the Academy, on wounds ranging from simple scratches to broken bones. But she can’t simply wait for help to arrive.

Not when it comes to Ben.

She reaches out into the Light side of the Force. It’s difficult to do, and the Light keeps sliping from her fingers due the agony that courses through her veins. But she insists and persists — just like Luke has taught her, relaxing the tension of her shoulders, and slowing down her breathing. Allowing herself to drift and become one with the Force. Allowing it to course through her, and into the body that lays beneath her hands, willing the severed tissue to be stitched back together, and the blood vessels to mend.

She allows herself to get lost in its Power.

Rey opens her eyes, not knowing how much time has passed. She feels drained and sleepy, barely able to hold herself together. She lifts her hands from the man’s wound and looks down.

A sob escapes her in the dark silence, and shudders wreck her body—another and another coming in rapid succession. She clasps her mouth and leans over the man, as sobs clench and quake at her insides and rob her of breath. Tears stream down her face, hot and thick, and drip on the man’s clothes, drenched in blood. Rey cries like she has never cried before in her life.

Because the man lying on her lap has his eyes closed. But he is very much alive—

And he is no longer bleeding.

Link to ClaraGemm's art here

Link to a snippet of chapter 12 from Ben's POV here

Chapter Text

He is in stasis for three standard days.

Everything has been officially dubbed a shuttle accident by his team, even though Leia Organa was very much opposed to such a statement. Canto Bight’s biggest hospital has watched over his recuperation and has released him for secret transportation to Chandrilla under high surveillance as soon as he was deemed stable enough to withstand travel. Ben is heavily sedated when he boards his ship, and remains that way a standard cycle later when he's carried to a room on the second floor of his mother's house sometime in the middle of the night.

Rey has not left his side for a single moment.

She bites a hangnail on her left thumb as she watches a physician assess Ben’s vitals, removing cords and intravenous drips from his body and injecting a medication that will slowly awaken him. The room is simple but comfortable, with a large double bed, worn-out wooden furniture and a thick carpet in the middle of the floor. There are various trinkets, personal belongings and wall decorations implying that in the past this room has very much been lived in. Rey can’t help but wonder if it once belonged to Ben. A sofa with soft cushions and a large balcony overlooking a peaceful lake complete the picture. It’s the homiest environment she has ever seen him in.

The physician finishes his work on Ben and comes to check her stitched-up temple. He gives her a prescription for painkillers and advice on how to tend to her wound, which Rey completely disregards— she's clearly dealt with worse ones than this— and then takes his leave, once he verifies that Ben's vitals are to his satisfaction. Leia sees him off, while the ancient golden protocol droid she remembers from their first encounter, leads Rey to a guest room adjacent to Ben's to settle her things and rest.

But Rey can’t rest.

She doubts she ever will again. Not after coming so close to losing him. 

She slips into Ben’s room to check on him sometime later in the night, when all the fuss has quieted in the house. He’s still fast asleep, sprawled on his back in his big double bed. The curtains to his room ripple with each gust of wind, so Rey walks up to the balcony doors to shut them tight. He’s a restless sleeper, from what she remembers, and will probably uncover himself during the night and catch his death, now that he's barely made it out alive from this second attempt on his life— 

Rey draws the curtains together and turns to look at Ben, who remains peacefully asleep.

She can’t resist walking up to his bed. She sits next to him and brushes a strand of inky hair away from his scarred face. She softly traces the length of the black stitches all the way down to his upper chest, where they disappear under his shirt.

Ben sighs.

Rey snatches her hand away. She doesn’t want to wake him up. He needs to rest after all that’s happened.  

After—

The memories blend together. They twist and distort and become a strange mixture of black-armored men and bound women. Of rooms with chandeliers that turn into burning scraps of metal and shattered glass. Of consuming eyes and pleading gazes in the night.

Rey rubs her aching head.

Too much.

This has all been too much.

Ben moans, his relaxed brow furrowing and his body becoming tense. Rey watches him twist under the covers, and all of a sudden she feels like the girl that would wake in the middle of the night at the boy’s whimpers. She sets her hand on his forehead the way she always did—old habits are hard to die—and watches his body settle quietly into the mattress after a few moments.

When she removes it, his dark eyes are open and looking directly at her.

“Rey?”

Rey panics, and with a wave of her hand she snatches his consciousness and sets him back to sleep. Because she can’t deal with what the aftermath of what has happened.

She doesn’t know how—

Rey stands, rubbing at her eyes. They feel swollen and tired, and she knows she has to get some sleep herself. The urge to lift the covers and slip into the bed next to him, to wrap her arms around his broad body and give in to the warmth of his embrace, is very hard to fight off.

Rey clenches her jaw instead. Her emotions for him are becoming overwhelming. She’s losing control. She must pull herself together and put some kind of distance between them.

Only, she doesn’t know how anymore—

She glances at the sleeping man one last time before tearing herself from his presence. And heads for her own room.

.

.

.

Rey senses him when he wakes. She's in Leia’s kitchen preparing caf for both her and him, because she knows he needs at least three cups before he deigns to speak to anyone in a semi-cordial way. A kitchen droid is preparing breakfast, while Leia sips her tea at a table by the kitchen’s main window overlooking a lovely green garden.

She must sense him, as well, because she glances at Rey worriedly from across the table. She sets a datapad down. "It's best if he sees you first, child."

“I’ll go,” Rey nods, staring at the ceiling as if she could see right through to where Ben is staying.

She heads for the staircase, fingers brushing lightly over the rail’s wood and eyes set high above, feeling his initial spike of alarm turn into fear, and then fall into his more habitual emotions of irritation.

He doesn’t seem very happy to be here.

Rey reaches his room and stands warily outside his door, waiting for his emotions to settle down. She eventually raps lightly on the door.

He looks terrible when he wrenches it open. The black stitches bisecting his face accentuate the circles under his eyes, which are a few shades darker than usual. His stubble has grown and his hair is all over the place. He doesn’t say anything when he sees her. But he does grab her chin and tilts her head to the side to inspect her own set of stitches on her temple.

“I’m alright,” she mumbles in his grasp. “I don’t even feel it.”

He releases her without a single word. He turns around, leaving the door open, and heads back inside. His heavy pace disappears behind another door within his room. Probably the fresher.

Rey doesn’t know if she should be the one to say the first word. She’s not sure what he remembers. She goes to stand by the entrance of the fresher, crossing her arms in front of her chest and leaning a shoulder on the doorframe.

Ben’s upset. Rey doesn’t need the Force to sense that. He’s already cloaked his feelings, but his movements are jerky and tense as he tears his shirt over his head and remains in a plain black tank top. He leans into the mirror to look at his scars. His fingers drift to where the black stitches run down his face, but he immediately pulls his hand away with a hiss.

He runs the tap of water and reaches for a toothcleanser.

“If you want a repeat of the other night, I’m going to have to disappoint you. I’m only stripping to take a shower,” he says in a hoarse voice, looking at his reflection in the mirror but speaking to her.

Good to know his memory is intact. “If I wanted a repeat of that night, I’d also have a death wish.”

He lets out a small chuckle, the kind that show no real amusement. He finishes washing his teeth and rinses out his mouth from the tap.

“Then why are you here? There are no assassins hiding in my closet.”

“To see if you’re alright.”

“I'm fine."

"As fine as someone can be after a shuttle wreck, I'm sure."

He ignores her comment, splashing water on his face and wiping it carefully with a towel. He stares at himself in the mirror and works his jaw. Rey begins to feel frustrated. He's acting as if what happened that night is not important. As if she never saved his life. She wants to shake her head at herself because, seriously, what else did she expect from him?

She turns to leave.

“Stay. You don’t need to go yet,” he says cranking a cabinet open.

"If you need some privacy all you have to do is say the word and I'll go. You don’t need to act as if I'm a hidrance."

His dark eyes, slide to hers, for the first time today. Rey is caught unprepared to face the intensity they carry. The cold politician she has done everything in her power to protect is nowhere to be seen. 

"I'll let you know when I want you to go," is all he says.

Rey shifts on her legs and looks away. She honestly doesn’t know what to make of him. She wishes she had the willpower to give him a piece of her mind, the way she's done countless times before— but something has shifted between them since that dreadful night. She finds herself very conscious of all the things that could hurt him.

Ben begins to pull out the most curious set of tools from the cabinet while she raises her chin to have a better look. “What is that?”

"You'll see." He proceeds to mix water into a powder, turning it into foam. Then he applies it carefully around his jaw and lips.

Rey arches her brow. She’s never seen anything like this before. The whole process looks very ceremonial and seems to take up much attention, she notices, as she watches Ben glide some kind of small tool down the side of his jaw.

“Why won't you answer my question?”

Ben flinches back with an expression of pain and brings his finger to a spot on his chin. It seems to be bleeding.

Not one of the safest tools, obviously.

He curses and runs it under the water. “It’s a shaving set,” he informs her. “It’s used to shave off stubble and beards in some less civilized communities.”

That explains the stubble, at last, and its appearance and disappearance on his face on a daily basis.

“Why don’t you use a beard suppressant like everyone else does?”

Ben flinches again, and another drop of blood appears on his skin. He washes the tool again and Rey notices his hands are shaking lightly. At this rate, he’ll probably need to have his whole face covered in bacta patches by the end of the morning. She shakes her head and steps inside the fresher.

“Here, let me help you.”

“No, I’m perfectly capable of shaving myself.”

“You’re perfectly capable of covering your face in cuts to match the scar you already have.” She signals at him with two of her fingers. “Hand it over.”

He glares at her with a clenched jaw while tears begin to glisten in his red eyes. Rey never thought she'd see this man on the verge of a break down.

“You have no reason to be mad at me, Ben— ” she says, softly.

He works his jaw and returns his attention to the mirror, trying to glide the blade on the scarred part of his face. But his hand is still shaking, and his eyes are glassy, and Rey just knows he’ll end up cutting himself. She reaches for his hand that holds the small tool. He’s gripping it so tightly that the tips of his fingers are turning white.

“Ben,” she says softly as she wraps her hand around his. He swallows, and his eyes drop to their joined hands.

He looks so scared, she realizes. And he tries so hard to cover his fear behind yet another one of his masks.

The second attempt on his life would have been successful if Rey hadn’t been there. There’s no way that shuttle would have come out in one piece. And even if it had, and he had walked out of it unharmed, those assassins would have finished the job themselves. Someone must have known the Governor was at the party, unescorted by his Jedi. Someone had planned the attempt.

And Ben knows it, too.

“Let me help you,” she whispers, peeling the small tool from his hand.

He allows her.

Rey reaches up and sets the small blade at a spot on his jaw that’s still covered in foam, and glides it slowly, removing a strip of the fluffy substance. Just like she’d seen him do. She rinses it under the running water, and continues with another spot, being very careful not to cut any of the moles on his face.

It’s so strange how she knows where every single one lies by heart. She’s touched them so many times as a child, squealing and giggling when he’d turn to bite playfully at her hand. But he sits so still now, under the blade, with eyes set intensely on her face. Watching her. Studying, perhaps, the changes in her own features.

Does he like what he sees?

The thought paters through her mind and slides down to the pit of her stomach. Could he ever find her even a little attractive? She’s so different from the women that surround him.

His breath comes out a little shaky on her hand as she lifts his chin to run the blade along his throat. He swallows again, uncomfortably, and Rey feels his hands come around to brace the sink behind her. There’s still space between their bodies, because he’s so large and broad in comparison to her, but the sensation of being caged by him is there nonetheless. 

Rey stops.

His eyes drop to hers again. Dark and molten with unshed tears.

And suddenly, his warm, large hands are on her hips, and his thumbs are rubbing little circles over the jut of bones on her pelvis. Then, as if she weighs nothing, he lifts her onto the counter.

“What are you doing?”

“You can’t reach me properly,” he says hoarsely. He steps closer and comes to stand between her parted legs. “This is better for you.”

Rey resumes the shaving under his unwavering eyes, trying to ignore the wild beat of her heart. “You never did tell me why you prefer to use a blade for shaving,” she says, trying to lighten the mood because she can sense how hard it must be for him to feel so out of control. All he needs is a little time to gather his pieces. Just like any person would after a traumatizing incident.

It works. Because he curls the ends of his lips. “You really want to know?”

“I asked twice, didn’t I?”

"You did.” He huffs a little pretentiously. “Well, if you insist. Let me see—" He hums in thought. "I enjoy the glide of the blade on my skin as it takes away the previous day.”

Rey ponders on that for a moment. “Well, maybe if you had a good day you wouldn’t want it taken away.”

“If I have a good day, I usually don’t have time to shave.”

Rey pauses to look at him. His expression is simply scandalous. She shakes her head. “You’re messing with me. What’s the real reason?” 

She tilts his head to the side to try and shave his scarred face. This will be tricky. But Ben doesn’t seem to be particularly worried. 

“All right,” he concedes. “How about this. I hate doing what everyone else does. I want to stand out.”

Rey smiles. “That’s more like it. Give me another reason.”

“Another?” He arches his brows in mock surprise, and Rey thinks she’s never seen him look so… stars, her heart flutters at how attractive he looks right now. “You’re a greedy little thing today. Let me think— ”

One of his hands wraps around her thigh. And Rey feels her own hand start to shake.

“I like the roughness of my stubble at the end of the day. The way things feel when they come in contact with it.” She pauses again to look at him, not sure if he’s implying again something she should be aware of. But his gaze on her is unfathomable, and his hand on her knee large and warm and eerily still.

“Are you teasing me?”

“Maybe.”

The ends of his lips quiver, and his eyes break into a smile—an expression so captivating and so, so painfully beautiful that she can’t look away.

“It gives me time to face myself in the mirror on a daily basis and weigh the things I’ve done,” he adds in a soft voice. His tone is very serious. Rey doesn’t say anything more, and he too remains silent as she runs the blade on the skin over his upper lip.

His hand slips slowly up her leg, and his thumb comes to caress the inner part of her thigh. Softly. Delicately. Running soft little circles while skimming over the fabric of her leggings. Reaching higher— 

Rey has to say something, anything to steal her attention from his wandering touch.

“What kind of things do you feel you have to face?”

He looks at her with those dark eyes and Rey senses— no, she knows— she's treading on dangerous waters.

“I’m not going to judge,” she shrugs, trying to seem indifferent because she’s so curious to hear what he has to say. “Tell me.”

He licks his lips. But wavers for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Stars, yes, she wants to know. She wants to know what he sees in that mirror. What it is that he feels he needs to face. She wants to know everything there is to know about him.

“My appetites— ”

Rey pauses. Appetites? What kind of— Oh.

Her heart reboots with a strong thud, and she feels her cheeks heat as certain memories slip into her mind. Rey looks away, pretending to be absorbed in rinsing off the blade. There’s only a little patch of foam left under his chin but somehow it’s the most difficult to shave, as the broadness of his shoulders and the muscles of his arms suddenly stand out so much underneath the thin tank top he wears. Rey should have just let him do this on his own. He’s the one who’s chosen such reckless ways to shave. She really doesn’t see why she puts herself in these situations and tries to save him from his own self.

She raises her hand to shave that last part off a little shakily, and as the blade glides down his throat, his hand wraps around her wrist.

“Thank you,” he says, rubbing those gentle circles on the inside of her wrist. He seems to like doing that a lot, and Rey would probably not have paid much attention to it in the past. But after that night, after what she'd seen him do in that villa— the whole world has somehow turned upside down, and it’s beginning to catch up with her. 

Rey feels her ears start to throb as the beat of her heart starts to pound painfully in her chest.

“For saving my life—”

And that feral state he had been in when he came to find her. And feeling his hot lips kiss down her neck. Rey doesn’t think she can be so close to him again without having her skin break into shivers.

“Rey... You were magnificent out there.”

She tugs her wrist away.

His surprise is so sharp she feels it in the Force.

“Rey?” He curls two fingers under her chin and leans in to catch her eyes. But she jerks her head away.

“Don’t touch me.”

There’s an endless moment where she thinks he’ll grab her chin and force her to look up. But no. That’s not what he does. Ben steps away with his hands raised. And she suddenly realizes how much he had been touching her. His legs are no longer pressing against the inside of her thighs, and his body is no longer cocooning her with his warmth. Rey feels so hollow it makes her want to cry. Something about him constantly has her on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you in any way,” he says.

Rey slides off the counter, making sure not to come in any kind of contact with him. “I think I should let you shower and get that night's stench off your body.”

He stares at her confused for a heartbeat. “You're upset. Is that night what this is all about?”

“No.”

“Is it?”

“I said no.”

“You’re lying.”

She shakes her head adamantly, but her voice betrays her. “I’m not lying—”

“Then look at me.”

Her eyes turn to his before she can stop herself. Ben always had that power over her. He’s standing two paces away, with those dark eyes on fire and that gruesome black scar running down his face. Rey wishes she could say he looks intimidating or threatening —she can handle threatening— but there’s something wounded in the way he studies her. 

“Was it the villa?”

Gods…

“The things you saw?”

“Ben…”

“Was it me ?”

“Please, just—”

“The women I fucked, or that I kissed you?”

“Stop! Just stop. Alright?” She raises her hand to her forehead. Stars, doesn’t this man ever respect anyone’s boundaries? Does he respect anything at all? He’s flipping expertly through her surface thoughts, reading her as if she’s an open book and Rey feels as if there’s no place to hide anymore.

The storm in his search soon subsides, and he runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots.

“I won’t touch you again,” he states. “Not unless you ask me to.”

“I will never ask you to touch me!” 

She regrets her child-like lash out instantly — but it’s already too late. Ben’s expression closes off the moment those words come tumbling out.

"I see..." is all he says in the end. "Very well then. We'll have it your way. No more touching." Rey hates how much his tone of voice reminds her of the Governor. He grabs a towel and backs further away from her.  

“I wish to shower now, so I suggest you leave.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying any longer.”

“Good," he states icily. "You may shut the door on your way out."

His hands drop down to the fastenings of his pajama pants, tugging leisurely at the strings. Before she can stop herself, her eyes fall on a trail of hair under his navel that disappears under his clothes. Rey finds herself unable to swallow.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

Rey turns around feeling her cheeks begin to heat. Perhaps from anger. Perhaps from embarrassment. But she pauses at the door of the fresher as she is about to step out, clenching her fists.

"Just because I'm not the type of woman you're used to fondling doesn't mean I'm worth any less. I want you to treat me with respect. I've earned it." She tries to sound proud, but her heart is pounding inside her chest so hard, she believes he can hear it. 

He doesn’t miss it. Nothing ever gets by this man. 

"We have a long day ahead of us. Why don’t you go downstairs and inform everyone I'll be there shortly," he comments, the cold steel of his gaze softening a fraction before he adds. “The two of us can talk  later..."

Rey nods and hurries out of his room.

Chapter Text

But they never get to talk later.

Because when Ben eventually comes down the stairs with a mood as rotten as a sarlaac’s pit, he walks straight into a crowded and very boisterous full house. He slows his descent as he approaches the end of the staircase, and for a brief moment, considers turning around and going back up to his room.

“Master Ben! So good to see you are up and about again.” The mumbling subsides instantly at Threepio’s greeting, as all heads turn to look in his direction. “We have all been looking forward to your waking, and especially I, since I had been scheduled with the unfortunate task of bringing you breakfast in— “

The golden droid gets cut off by a loud whine. Chewbacca shoves Threepio unceremoniously to the side, stomps to where Ben stands at the end of the staircase, and envelopes him in a furry tight hug, lifting him off the ground. The wound on his side stings like hell, and Chewbacca definitely needs a bath, but Ben pats him back a little more fondly than intended.

“Yeah, buddy. Good to see you too.”

The wookie sets him down with another whine and lifts his paw to ruffle his hair.

“No. No. Chewie, I just washed it!”

Damn it.

Who knows where those paws have been and what they’ve done? He did come from Maz’s castle, after all.

Ben’s eyes dart around the lounge, in search of Rey amongst the people that have made themselves comfortable in his parent’s house this early in the morning. Some people from his mother’s team walk up to shake his hand and wish him well, Dameron nods his “hey man ” from across the room, and one of his mother’s assistants steps up to timidly offer her good morning and hand him a datapad containing the information he’s missed since the accident. She begins to sum up in rapid succession the main events that have transpired after he dropped off the face of the galaxy for three days, while he struggles to pay attention without letting her sense how oblivious he feels. He gives up in the middle of a report about how the new starships the Republic has purchased don’t match the order that had been given, because if Ben doesn’t have a cup of caf now, his brain will disintegrate.

He shoos the assistant away, and skims the crowded lounge for Rey once again—but she’s nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, kid! Good to see you’re in one piece.” His father walks up, giving him a gruff slap on his shoulder. It might seem casual to any bystander, but Ben can detect those little things in his father’s expression that speaks tons about his emotions.

“I had Rey. She saved me,” he mumbles back, while his father smirks knowingly. Τhe only person who probably understands the gravity of what that means.

“Let’s get you outta here, son. Your mother wants to see you.”

Ben wishes he had never gotten out of bed. And not just because he has to face his mother. But because he literally feels like he went through a shuttle accident. Every bone on his body aches, the wound on his side throbs, his scar stings, and he hates the fact that he spoke the way he did at Rey earlier in the fresher. But she blew up at him out of nowhere, despite that he had been so conscientious touching her. So aware of her reactions—

A lot of good that did.

“Are you ready to speak to Luke?” his father asks.

The mere mention of his uncle’s name makes him wish the Force-user had accomplished his mission. "Ecstatic at the prospect," he deadpans, as they enter the kitchen—

—and he finally sets eyes on Rey.

She’s in the backyard, standing under the shade of a tree, speaking to a dark-skinned man he’s never met before.

Ben frowns.

The man seems on edge, looking over his shoulder as if someone is about to creep up on him. As if he’s on the run.

“Who’s this?” he points with his chin.

“That’s the Stormtrooper I was talking to you about. Your mom wanted to meet with him and talk. She’s already spoken to Markus or Ruccus —or whatever Chandrila’s President is called— about the information he’s brought in.”

“What kind of a position did he have in the Order?”

“Sanitation.”

“Sanitation?  We have the galaxy’s fate in the hands of a janitor?” Ben clenches his teeth at his father. Have they all lost their kriffing minds?

“Hey! Take it easy. That’s what I thought too in the beginning. But he knows what he’s talking about, and he’s a good kid. Listen to what he has to say and try not to scare him off too much.”

“He’s afraid of his own shadow.”

“He’s afraid of the First Order, Ben.”

His father's expression has turned stern so he knows there is no battle to win there. He narrows his eyes at Rey, who’s still talking to the man and hasn’t acknowledged Ben’s presence at all. He scowls. He can’t understand what she finds so fascinating about him. He’s only a Stormtrooper, for fuck’s sake. Who works in sanitation.

“What’s his name?”

“Finn. Dameron named him. Looks like the guy had a number for a name all his life.”

“Ah.”

Ben could care less, actually. He watches him as he gestures animatedly at Rey, obviously in the middle of describing something vastly interesting to her. And Rey…

Ben’s heart clenches.

Rey is gracing the Stormtrooper with the most radiant smile he’s ever seen. The kind that stretches from ear to ear and lightens the entire damn planet. Ben feels dazzled for a split second because Force, he hasn’t seen this smile since— 

That’s when she notices him through the kitchen’s vast windows. And that smile falters.

He holds her clear gaze, a silent command growing behind it. A command for her to come stand next to him where she belongs. But Rey looks away.

Something inside him grits its teeth at being shunned in favor of a complete stranger. A stranger who seems to be very much in the process of becoming another one of her friends, judging from that smile. Suddenly, Ben doesn’t feel very confident in himself. She’s very capable of using that innocence as charm, unbeknownst to her. And he can’t help but wonder for a split moment if he’s been the hunter all along... or the prey. He shuffles his foot, torn between stomping up to interrogate the guy, or punching him straight in the face. The second choice sounds preferable, but Rey would probably refuse to speak to him again till the ends of time.

Ben decides he desperately needs a cup of caf. Or ten. And another life, preferably.

His mother is already seated at the table, discussing with a holoprojection, when Ben stalks into the kitchen. He squints at the morning light and shuffles to the caf machine to pour himself a cup of the blessed, hot liquid.

“Well, look who finally decided to join us,” the holoprojection says with a smirk. Ben scrunches his face. The caf tastes marvelous, but hearing Nyxx this early in the day— “How’s it hanging, asshole?” 

“Pissing all over the galaxy, actually.” Prick. “How about you? Has it shriveled up yet?”

Ben takes a sip just as Nyxx sniggers from across the galaxy. “Currently exploring the Unknown Regions, my friend. But you might already know all about that.”

“Boys!”

His mother looks a little exasperated as she hurries up to Ben to land a kiss on his cheek. He leans over patiently, as she rearranges his hair back into place and removes some invisible piece of lint from his shirt before she looks at his scarred face with watery eyes.

“My boy— ”

Ben wants to roll his eyes. “I’m fine, mother. It’ll heal.”

“Well, of course, you’re fine. You have Rey next to you night and day, protecting you.”

Ben hums in agreement while taking a sip. No need to change his mother’s perception of that particular night.

“Now put that caf down and get some actual food in your stomach.” She switches to her usual commanding tone. “We have a long day ahead of us, and I don’t need you any grumpier than you usually are.”

She returns to her seat by Nyxx’s holoprojection, and Ben proceeds to take his place next to her—a cup of caf in hand. Luke’s holo appears, and he knows it’s time to get down to business.

There has been a second attempt on his life, and Rey nearly died defending him.

Mustafar's hells will freeze over before he allows that abominable creature named Snoke to continue breathing in the same galaxy as her. He will find a way to annihilate his First Order, and obliterate every damn Sith apprentice that walks this universe. And when he is done, he will scatter their ashes to the nearest black hole to decompose into eternity—or so help him Force, he will never find peace for as long as he lives!

“Ben?” His mother looks at him worriedly, probably sensing his spiraling thoughts.

“Let’s do this.”

The early morning rays slowly fade as the sun rises in the sky. The talks with Luke are followed by talks with the President of Chandrila and his Minister of Defense. And those, in turn, are followed by those with the High Chancellor in Hosnian Prime, and the Head of State in Kuat—and so on and so forth.

Ben has the most splitting headache forming sometime around late noon— which only gets worse the moment the Stormtrooper arrives to fill in gaps in the information.

Rey’s not with him.

Ben doesn’t want to admit how much that bothers him. He sits back in his seat—which suddenly seems too small and uncomfortable—and starts rapping his fingers on the tabletop.

The problem is that he knows exactly the reason why she refuses to approach him. Of course, his Jedi would be trying to stay away after being fondled, as she described it. Twice. By him, of all people. He shouldn't have allowed himself to lose control around her.

Ben rakes his hand through his hair.

Perhaps it’s better that he vowed he wouldn’t touch her again. Her infatuation has been stroking and feeding his ego in the filthiest ways from the very beginning. Not to mention that the curious little glances from under her lashes have left him craving for her from the moment she licked her fingertips clean at that dinner in Hosnia Prime. It was only a matter of time until he broke and came on to her. Hard.

And now behold— 

The aftermath of his actions. Him jerking his cock under the shower, with just the memory of her neck on his lips.

Ben shifts in his seat.

What he wouldn’t give to have another taste.

His mother clears her throat at him and arches her brows. Ben returns his attention to his Minister of Defense analyzing the range of the Republic fleet’s ion torpedoes. But it doesn’t take long for his thoughts to stray again.

Because this is Rey— his little Rey—who pulled him out of a burning shuttle, faced three assassins all on her own, and nearly sacrificed her life to save him. His Rey, that for one, single, terrifying moment he thought he’d lose under the red lightsaber of the assassin that had come for him. His heart had stopped when he saw her fall to the ground.

And now— 

Now all he can think about are her little taunting explorations at his fresher this morning. The ones she believed would go unnoticed by his sharpened senses, when in fact Ben had been exploring and feeling for Rey’s limits. It amuses him to think she was naive enough to want to play with the beast inside him.

Perhaps he should allow her— 

But he’s vowed not to touch her unless she asks. Which is a bit of a predicament. Rey is so loyal to those sacred Jedi rules. Does he respect her wishes and stay away? Does he go after her until she parts those slender legs and wraps them around his hips? Oh, how he wants to be the first to break her. Ruin her.

Fuck her raw into his bed.

He wants to watch her pretty hazel eyes melt as she falls apart around him, powerless to moan anything else but his name. To think of anything else but his hard cock thrusting inside her. And yes —those slender wrists will need to be bound to his bed. Just to be on the safe side. Because he never, ever wants to let go of her again.

Ben shifts as the fabric of his trousers starts to get tight around his crotch.

The anesthesia must have really messed with his head. At least that’s what he wants to believe. Ben has had indecent thoughts about her on the outskirts of his mind before. But they are flat-out invading it now. He knew he should have never asked Luke for help. His life is fucked up as it is. And now he can’t stop himself from dragging Rey into his debauched ways. She doesn’t deserve this—the pain and anguish that come with it.

And Hannah— 

Fuck, how does he explain to her about Hannah? Rey will never understand the kind of relationship he has with her. Her perception of people and sex is too narrow. 

Ben runs his hand down his face and nearly hisses at the sting of his scar. His mother side-eyes him in the middle of a discussion with the Prime Minister of Corellia.

“…But there is no guarantee that this Stormtrooper has all the information we need to destroy a weapon of this scale. Perhaps negotiations could…”

“Which is why I am dispatching the best pilot I know to bring back more. Frederick, this is it," Leia presses on. "This is the threat we’ve all been expecting. And we need to act now!”

Ben rubs his eyes, shifting on his seat once more and feeling very irritated with himself. He has got to pull his shit together.

“Excuse me for a moment,” his mother smiles politely at the holoprojection before freezing the image and turning to glare at Ben. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? This is an important meeting. If we don’t agree on a plan to take out Starkiller Base and go after Snoke’s Mega Destroyer now— we never will. Pull your mind out of whatever hole it’s dwelling in and help me out here!”

Ben nods at her steely glare with a flustered face.

He unfreezes the image of the Prime Minister. “We have everything we need to blow up this weapon,” he states, tearing out all thoughts of Rey and trying to concentrate on the discussions at hand. “What the Republic doesn’t have is a proper fleet to go up against the First Order Destroyers. That has been the problem from the very beginning.”

Luckily enough, he had foreseen it and acted accordingly.

There’s no going back now— 

But the decision has started to weigh on him in a way he had not seen coming.

.

.

.

It’s late in the afternoon by the time the discussions come to an end. Ben has spotted Rey under the garden’s oldest tree, performing forms with her eyes closed. He comes to stand by the huge balcony doors overlooking the patio, with his millionth cup of caf in hand and the beat of his heart in his throat. He balances his forearm on the wooden beam of the door, and stares longingly at her lithe body bend and flex under the rhythmic routine, giving elegance and grace to even the toughest of forms. She has come a long way from wielding just a stick.

“She’s grown, hasn’t she?”

But Ben doesn’t take his gaze away from Rey at the sound of his father’s voice. She’s too breathtaking to watch under the setting sun filtering through the foliage.

“She sure has— ”

“Have you two had the chance to catch up?”

Ben wants to laugh his heart out, because how the hell does he answer to that?

“We’ve spoken.”

“Does she know about Hannah?"

“No more than she needs to.”

“What have you told her?”

Ben presses his lips at his father’s interrogation. “That she’s my fiancée.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say to her, dad?” He turns to face him. “What difference will it make?”

“Do you know how long that girl has had a crush on you? Asked about you? And don’t pretend you never cared.” He shakes his finger in front of his nose. “Rey is the best thing that ever happened to you.”

“Fifteen years ago!”

His dad gives him one of the sternest stare-downs he’s ever seen. Ben feels like he’s ten again.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the looks you’ve been giving her today.”

“That’s absurd! What looks?”

“You know what I’m talking about, kid.”

Ben rakes his hand through his hair before he’s able to stop himself, feeling like an awkward teen under his father’s stony gaze.

“Just don’t hurt Rey,” he warns. “If you’re certain about the choices you’ve made, don’t let her find out about your feelings. And I’m warning you, kid. Women always figure out the truth in the end. Always!”

Ben glances at Rey, who's taking a break and patting the sweat from her brow.

“Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you…” he says to the little girl huddled in the corner of a beaten-down crate. She has dirt on her brow, and her hair is covered in sand, and she’s looking at him like a feral little animal about to attack. But he’s curiously drawn to her. She seems to have the Force. “…Here, do you want a ration bar? Are you hungry?”

It might be a little late for that, Ben thinks. He has become really good at hurting people. But maybe his father is right. It’s best that Rey doesn’t find out about his attraction to her.

“I for one, am glad we double-checked the Western Regions for the Falcon,” his father continues a bit softer. “We would have never come across her otherwise, and who knows how things might have been without Rey.”

His father pats him on his shoulder in a way that Ben has always considered a rough goodbye.

“Are you leaving already?”

His father sends him his trademark roguish smirk.

“Someone has to sneak the Republic team into Starkiller Base. And no one else is crazy enough to do it. Besides, you look as healthy as an orbak, no reason for me to hang around and irritate your mother anymore.”

Ben raises a brow at him. “Did you actually come all the way home to see me?”

“Your mother acted as if you were dying. Plus, it was on my way.”

Ben shakes his head at his father’s odd ways of endearment. “Sure… Takodana is just around the corner.”

Han Solo turns around to leave, but not before he sends him a quick wink. “It was good talking to you. See you around, son.”

Yeah… Yeah…

Ben looks back to where Rey is stripping off her tunic down to her thin shirt. It’s a hot and humid day. Sweat is glistening on her skin, and the thin material is clinging to all the right places. She picks up her saberstaff to continue her forms.

He decides it’s a good time to walk away and head to his room.

.

.

.                                                                             

Of course, he’s unable to sleep.

Apart from his usual nightmares of blood, gore and death, eternal Darkness and ravenous hunger; apart from the haunting voice that tears his sanity into shreds, Ben also has the uncomfortable sting of his wounds to deal with—which hurt like a bitch. Not to mention the restlessness of his late-night talk with Hannah’s father. Of course, Ben was relieved to hear of the support their world will provide, despite the Republic’s temporary refusal to allow them in the Federation. But at what personal cost?

His future has now been cemented.

Rey picked the worst time to waltz into his life, with her bright hazel eyes and light spring in her step, her endless compassion and deadly determination. And that smile— 

He’d turn the sun around just to have her smile at him the way she did at the Stormtrooper.

Ben groans in the stillness of the room. He’s such a fucking idiot. Always allowing his impulses to get the better of him.

He throws the covers off sometime after midnight, coming to terms with the fact that he won’t be getting any more sleep. He grabs a shirt to wear in case he comes across Threepio wandering in the halls— getting pestered about proper dress code in the middle of the night is the last thing he needs— and pads out of his room and down the main staircase. He rummages through his father’s hidden stash of liquor, grabs his favorite whiskey and a tumbler, and decides to get wasted out on the patio.

It’s supposed to be a warm, quiet night.

Ben expects to see a black sky and its glittering stars when he walks out. He expects to see the two moons reflecting off the lake’s still waters, and fireflies flickering in the garden. He expects the ruffling of trees from the wind, and the sound of night birds ringing in the silence of the night. He expects the humid, heavy scents of the forest mixed with the fragrance of Naboo roses to envelop his senses.

He expects to see everything he has seen and felt ever since he was a child.

But what Ben doesn’t expect to see when he pulls out a chair to sprawl himself on and take his first sip of whiskey, is his most sacred adolescent fantasy come to life right before his eyes.

Because there’s no doubt, whatsoever, that the figure of a woman is rising out of the sparkling waters, bathed in the shadows of the night and the silver of the two moons, and stepping foot on the light sand.

Ben’s hand hovers midair, clutching the tumbler inches from his lips while he stares dumbfounded at the woman walking up the beach dressed in—

His jaw drops.

Because that slender body is definitely not dressed in much. The woman lifts her arms to wring out the water from her hair, and Ben swears he can see the drops sparkle down her neck, over the jut of her collarbones, and down the soft curves of her—

Sweet Maker…

The universe must hate him and adore him at the same time, because he must have done something right to deserve this.

That’s when his eyes fall on a pile of clothes scattered on the ledge of the patio, just a couple of feet away from him.

Ben Solo gets off his chair as silently as he can. He’s hidden from sight because of a tree that casts its foliage over the patio, and he knows deep down that he should turn around and head back inside the house without alarming the young woman. Listen to his father’s words and not go chasing after trouble—because that would be the right thing to do.

But Ben Solo doesn't often do what is right.

Which is why he carefully approaches the pile of clothes, eyes unwavering from the young woman making her way up the beach.

He bites his lip.

And snatches them away.

It’s why he leisurely returns to his seat, puts his feet up on the table, and lays the clothes on his lap.

And waits for Rey.

Link to Denial here!

Chapter Text

Rey could have sworn she had left her clothes on the ledge of the patio.

But as she approaches it now, she notices they are nowhere to be found—which is odd. It’s not windy, so there’s no way they could have been blown away, and she can’t imagine any kind of an animal taking them either. She hopes.

She sets her hands on her waist, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. Where in the galaxy are her clothes?

“Good evening.”

The deep rumble of a man’s voice nearly makes her jump out of her skin. Her hands fly to her bare breasts, and she squints in the darkness trying to make out the figure of the man sitting comfortably on the patio.

“Looking for something?”

Her eyes grow wide. Oh, no…. No no no.  “What are you doing out here?”

“Enjoying the view,” he drawls to her utter mortification.

What else would this man say in such a situation? Rey feels heat blooming on her chest and spreading to her face. She’s thankful for that little part of logic in the back of her mind that had screamed at her to keep her underpants on before diving into the lake.

“Did you take my clothes?”

He chuckles a self-assured, throaty sound in the moonlight filtering through the foliage, and brings a glass to his lips. He gives no answer.

Bastard.

She can’t believe this is happening to her. She could have sworn everyone in the house was in their respective rooms, sound asleep.  Otherwise, she would have never taken the risk to go skinny dipping in the middle of the night. And from what she remembers, she did pass outside his bedroom to verify he was asleep.

Only...of course, he wasn’t.

Because he’s so damn good at hiding himself in the Force. 

Rey wants to smack herself for her stupidity. It infuriates her to imagine how long he has been sitting on the patio, watching her. “Give me my clothes back, Ben.”

“Come and get them.”

She glares at the two moons, clutching her small breasts in her hands, and feeling convinced that the universe has decided to pull a bad prank on her. How could she have been so stupid?

“Rey?”

“What!”

She can almost feel the smirk in his voice. “Come here. I won’t bite.”

Actually, she doubts that. “This isn’t funny, Ben. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove.”

“Aren’t you a little curious to find out?”

“No.”

She can see him shrugging in the shadows. “Suit yourself.”

A couple of moments pass by, where Rey considers making a run for her room in the hopes she won’t come across any of the droids, or even worse, his mother, roaming around the corridors and raising strange suspicions about her midnight habits. Because that would be simply too—

Damn it.

She walks up to the patio and comes to stand next to his chair. He has his feet perched on the table, and he’s dressed in loose nightclothes himself. His dark hair is highlighted in silver, but his eyes are as black as ever. He’s sipping his drink without taking his gaze off her.

“I want my clothes back.”

“Good,” he croons. “Knowing what you want is always good. Now… ask for them.”

“I’m not asking for my clothes. They’re mine!"

“But I’m the one who has them right now. So go on. Ask.”

He’s not making any sense, Rey concludes, feeling puzzled, and frustrated, and utterly embarrassed. If he wants to play some form of twisted game in the middle of the night, he’ll have to find someone else to do that. Because it most certainly won’t be with her.

She raises her hand to snatch them with the Force, but Ben is too quick. He grabs them midair and hides them behind his back. He gives her a look that Rey knows —even in this darkness—brings nothing but trouble.

He gets off his seat. He approaches slowly, coming to tower over her while Rey wraps her arms around her chest, making sure nothing is showing. She feels her ears start to burn.

“Ben, what do you think you’re doing?”

He tsks and tilts his head.

“You’re a disobedient little thing, aren’t you? I would normally not let this pass but…” he taps her nose with his index finger and gives her a smirk. “I’ll be generous and forgive your little trespass. For tonight.”

“My trespass! Has the shuttle accident given you a concussion? You’ve stolen my clothes and have left me standing half-naked in front of you, while you’re practically having a riot watching me get all worked up and embarrassed.”

“There’s no reason for you to feel embarrassed.”

“Are you listening to anything I’m saying?”

“Well, you’re obviously not aware of what I’ve been seeing.”

“Excuse me?"

He leans in just a bit closer. “You look beautiful under the moonlight, Rey,” he says. “Forgive me for wanting to enjoy the sight for a few more moments.”

She blinks up at him, feeling his deep voice rumble delicately down her body and land down low, at that same sensitive spot as the night at the villa when— how does he do this? Rey, feels her insides twist strangely. How does he turn the world upside down with just two words? She’s the one standing exposed before him, but somehow he’s making her feel like she’s the one who holds all the power over him.

She narrows her eyes.

He’s so manipulative.

She darts around his side to snatch her clothes again, but he beats her to it, raising them over his head with another one of his dark chuckles. Rey stares helplessly at her clothes, bunched tightly in his grasp almost two feet over her head.

“Ask for your clothes back. Nicely.”

Rey growls in frustration.

She sees little fingers stretch up above, towards the towering teenage boy clutching at the little droid she’s assembling. "Give it back, it’s mine!”  But the boy laughs his heart out and taps at her nose. “Not unless you say please, little one…”

“Do it.”

It’s… so strange. How the demand makes her feel. Alright. Maybe she will. Just because she’s so curious to see what he’s up to.

His gaze feels heavy in the dark as it continues to bore down on her.

“I would like to have my clothes back.”

He shifts, crowding her in, reminding her how small she must look in comparison to him. For a second she thinks he’ll reach over and wrap his arm around her waist, run his long fingers through her wet strands. But he does none of these. He doesn’t touch her. Just like he’d promised.

He licks his lips. “That’s not good enough, Rey. Say it again. Like you mean it.”

His eyes are on her, simmering with expectation. Waiting.

Rey contemplates her answer. “May I have my clothes back, please?”

He smiles. A lovely smile that spreads to his eyes and works its way around her chest. He must feel very satisfied for some reason.

“That’s my girl. Yes, you may have them.”

He brings his hand down, sets her clothes on the table, and plucks the towel from the top.

“I think I can do that for myself, thank you,” she says warily as she watches him unfold the towel in the air.

“I’m not finished.”

“Oh, I think you are,” Rey tries to grasp the cloth dangling in front of her, but his gaze makes her halt. “Ben, I want my towel!”

“Quiet.”

She flinches slightly at his tone of voice, feeling as if she’s being scolded for doing something wrong. He makes everything sound as if there’s some kind of power play behind his words and intentions. Rey doesn’t know what to make of his behavior.

“Lift your arms up.”

Rey blushes furiously. He can’t be serious.

“Ben, you know I can’t do that. You’ll have to turn around in order for me to—”

“I won’t look.”

“What did you—?”

“I said I won’t look.”

“How can you not look when you’re standing right in front of me. Ben, please…”

His eyes shut, as if taking some kind of decadent pleasure out of hearing her use that word. A little thrill runs up her spine at the knowledge that she’s the source of it. Rey makes a mental note to try using it again in the future, and see if it has the same effect on him as now. Chances are it’s all because of the moonlit night and the shadows it casts over this strange, secret little game.

But she can never know unless she tries.

Ben opens his eyes all too soon. His gaze is dark and intimidating, but there are emotions churning deep inside that Rey now begins to recognize. Feelings of desire and need—and attraction.

“Rey, I want you to trust me. I will simply wrap the towel around your body, without looking down or touching you.”

This must be the oddest request anyone has ever asked from her. But Rey can’t do it. It’s too personal. Too intimate.

Too dangerous.

“Lift your arms up for me, sweetie.”

She looks at him pleadingly, hoping he’ll somehow change his mind and stop playing this strange game. Rey knows that she could simply walk away. She could turn around right this moment, go back into the house and put this night behind her—not give it a second thought.

But it’s too late.

Something inside her is already hooked, curious and drawn to this dark man and his odd, wicked games. He’s so much like a petulant child, wanting and demanding things that are not his, only to break them when he gets his hands on them. Out of boredom. Out of enthusiasm. It doesn’t really matter.

Because Rey is afraid of what will happen when he gets his hands on her.

She eventually does as he dictates, though. It’s impossible to resist. She lifts her arms.

“That’s it. Now, don’t move. Just look into my eyes. I won’t look down. Trust me—”

Rey feels the plush fabric of the towel wrap around her body carefully, as he secures the ends with deft fingers. Surely enough, she hasn’t felt his touch on her skin, just like he had promised. Part of her feels a little disappointed. 

His hands drop to his side, but he doesn’t pull away. He looms over her, eyes lingering on hers. Soft. Molten.

Consuming.

Rey can’t help but sense that something extraordinary is happening between them. Something she has no words to describe. 

“Ben, there has been a change in you... What is it?” she whispers.

“You don’t know,” he breathes out. “You still don’t know—”

No, she doesn’t. All she knows is that her heart feels as if it will burst.

“You’re so innocent.” His eyes roam her face. “So inexperienced. I forget the world you’ve come from at times.”

“You’ve come from the same world. We’re not that different, you and I.”

His face darkens, and his eyes dart between hers. A disobedient strand of hair slips and falls in his face. He stares at her from behind it nervously, as if he's in need to hide.

“I’m not that person anymore.”

Rey lifts her hand to brush the strand of hair away from his eyes. "That's not true. I believe you still are. Somewhere in there”

It feels so soft, thick and silky, between her fingertips. She explores his hair, allowing her hands to get buried in the silver and black waves, while he holds oh so still for her to slowly trail her fingers down his black scar. He doesn’t flinch in pain, but Rey knows it’s there. 

She senses a lot of it buried in this man.

She traces the scar ever so lightly, all the way down to where it disappears under his shirt. Suddenly, Ben shifts. He grabs the hem of his shirt and tugs it off his head, baring the rest of its path for her to explore. His chest heaves under her touch, the strong muscles taught from the tension running down his body. The scar under his ribs is even more pronounced in the shadows—a wide crevice of fresh skin, the result of her own healing powers. Rey feels her eyes sting when her fingers reach the rim of the wound.

“I was so afraid I’d lose you,” he whispers.

Rey nods as tears gather in her eyes. “Me too,” she says.

He brings his hand up as if to caress her face, but stops midair, before clenching it into a fist and letting it drop to his side. 

A yearning spreads in her chest, a longing for a touch she’s too afraid to ask for. She timidly places her hand on top of his heart, splaying her fingers on the expanse of muscle. And lets herself feel.

She feels the smooth skin and hard muscle. The wild thud of his heart.

The sweet ache buried inside it.

The care—

Rey gets lost in it all. For a long moment, it's all that exists.

And suddenly everything disappears. 

Ben abruptly pulls away, breaking off whatever connection was opening between them.

“I can’t.” He says hoarsely, clawing at his shirt in a hurry to put it back on. Rey feels as if she’s been dumped in icy water. “I thought I could, but I can’t do this—”

“Ben?” A shiver runs down her body. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“No, no—” He rakes his hair away from his face.

“Did I hurt you when I touched your scars?”

“No, it’s not that.” He runs his hands down his shirt, straightening the creases.

“Then what is it?”

He turns around, searching for something. He’s a mess.

“Ben. Look at me!”

He stills, snapping his eyes to her. Her breath stops at how desperate and frightened they suddenly seem. She never thought she’d see him look so afraid.

“It’s Hannah,” he blurts out. “I can’t do this because of Hannah.”

The name feels like a slap across her face.

“Hannah?” she stutters. “After all this time and all that I’ve seen you do, suddenly you remember your fiancée? I thought you didn’t care about her, that you didn’t—”

“Of course, I care about her.”

“Then why? Why do you humiliate her and degrade the relationship you have with her by—”

“I have tremendous respect for Hannah!”

For a split moment, everything goes silent. It's as if the universe has stopped breathing.

His pale drawn face is inches from hers, and Rey comes this close to slapping it once again. Because how could lie and manipulate and play games with her heart, when all along he had every intention of crushing it?

“How could you?” She grits out, eyes suddenly filling up with tears. “All this time you had me fooled. I thought you cared. That you still knew how!” Rey shakes her head, laughing to herself—she's been so stupid. So naive. “I have been so wrong about you. You play these foolish games that mean nothing to you, and lead me on to believe that they do. But you lie!” She swallows a sob. “You deceive and you lie and you embarrass me—with no remorse. You have no idea how ashamed I am, for still feeling the things I do for you!”

His eyes widen in surprise just as Rey turns around to wipe at the tears slipping down the curves of her cheeks.

“Wait!” He reaches for her but stops again, fingers curling in frustration inches from her shoulders. “Still feeling what things?”

"Screw you! Why does it even matter?"

"You agreed to be my protector when no one else would. Why?"

“Is that all you have to say for yourself? Are you insane?” she spits at him.

“Yes! Maybe... Everyone says I am.”

“Well, good luck with that. I'm heading back inside.”

“No!” He comes to stand between her and the patio doors. “Tell me. I want to know.”

“I’m not telling you anything. Get out of my way!”

“Tell me how you feel, Rey!”

“No! Leave me alone.”

“Say it.”

“You’re fucked up! Ok?”

“No that’s not it. That’s not how you feel.”

“I hate you! How’s that?”

He growls. “Say it, damn it!”

“I love you, Ben,” her little childhood voice says to the teenage boy fiddling with the components of his new lightsaber. Her heart feels as if it will combust and her small hands clutch at a piece of cloth as if it's the only source of courage in the galaxy. The boy looks up from his saber with wide eyes. “I will always love you,” she declares solemnly. The boy cracks a wide smile, the one that always lifts her heart. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden, you little dweeb? Did you watch some stupid show on the holonet?”

He has his hands cupping the air around her face now, and his forehead is a hair away from hers, but there’s no smile anymore. This man no longer knows how to smile. “I have to hear you say it. Please tell me—”

“You no longer deserve it,” she whispers.

She feels his breath fan on her lips. Or maybe it's the softness of his own lips brushing against hers. Rey simply doesn’t know. Gods, she wishes so much she could know—

“Let me touch you, Rey,” his deep voice cracks. “Just... Let me show you. Show you how good it would feel—”

She is so close to caving. So close—

“You said you can't do it because of Hannah.”

His hand slams the wooden beam behind her, startling her. Somehow she must have backstepped toward the patio doors without realizing. The cold surface of the glass touches her back. 

“Forget Hannah! Please… just—” His eyes are tearing her apart.

“No.”

The glass cracks behind her.

She's caged between his arms, helpless,  watching a maelstrom in the making, on the verge of being unleashed. His head drops to the curve of her neck and she feels his hot breath burn her skin in small puffs. She trembles, blinking tears away and clutching her hands into fists.

She stares at the two moons witnessing their downfall.

But he doesn’t touch her. Gods have mercy, Ben does not touch her.

So Rey waits. She waits for the storm to subside. Because it will.

All storms do—

“I’m not in love with Hannah,” he finally says in a low voice, when he lifts his head. It feels as if eons have passed. “And she is not in love with me. It’s an engagement of convenience. For political reasons. We’ve made a deal.”

Rey should feel relieved to hear this information— only she doesn’t. Her gaze remains pinned on the two moons. How insignificant this all must seem to them, she thinks. How trivial. To watch two people fall apart on earth from the safety of the sky.

She senses him swallow because he is so painfully close still, with his large hands splayed on the cracked glass behind her.

“What I just said. What I shared about my... relationship with her— it can mean anything you want it to mean for us. Or nothing at all.” He continues in a hoarse voice. He is coaxing. Stirring this thing inside her that will devour her whole if she lets it grow. Rey must not allow that to happen.

“It can’t mean anything, Ben.”

His head drops once again, but it comes nowhere close to touching her. He pushes himself away and looks to the side, working his jaw. He nods to himself—maybe to her as well. He looks defeated.

“It won’t then.”

Their eyes meet. 

“Hey, what’s wrong, baby girl? Why are you crying?” She buries her face in the boy’s chest, trying to swallow the sobs wrecking her little body. His arms wrap around her in concern. “Did anybody hurt you?”

She looks away.

“You can’t be so unhinged around me,” she says, willing away more tears from brimming. “It’s not good for us.”

He nods again, gaze lost somewhere in the lake.

“And it would be best if we left this night behind us,” she continues.

His cold chuckle does nothing to break the tension between them. "Of course. Anything you say,” he concedes, setting his hands in his pockets. He stares at the two moons.

Rey can sense his emotions in the Force, jagged and raw, despite his best efforts to seem composed. It's as if a dam has broken inside him now that threatens to leave nothing standing in the end. Nothing to hold on to— 

Her lip begins to tremble.

"Ben, I am here to protect you. Nothing more, nothing less. You have to understand that you can't continue behaving so out of control around me. If I am too distracted, unfocused— if I fall for you any deeper, she wants to say— then the next attempt on your life might end up being fatal. Please, you have to see this..."

Her voice gets cut off, her throat too tight to form another sound.

She doesn't know what she will do if she fails. If she loses him...

"You're right... Of course, you're right." The hardness of his features melts away and his eyes seem to turn sad when he looks at her, probably taking pity on their remains. “I'll be more cooperative from now and on. I promise."

Rey lets out a small sigh. She prays to every single star in tonight's black sky that she has somehow gotten through to him. 

"You should head back inside," he continues in a surprisingly soft voice. "It's late and you're already breaking into shivers."

"And what about you?" She asks clutching the plush towel tighter around her body. As if on cue a shiver does run down her body. "Shouldn't you be coming in too?"

"I’ll have a couple of more drinks and probably take a swim in the lake. I’ll be up for a while."

“Perhaps I should stay to make sure you are safe,” she says, closing the distance between them. She's hesitant to leave him out alone to his own devices. Who knows where he will run off to again.

Ben studies her with those consuming eyes under the shadows of the silver light. He then leans in, just enough to feel his presence a hair's breadth from crowding her in. He raises an eyebrow. “I believe it would be best if you... didn’t stay to watch me swim in the lake. I'll be going in with fewer clothes than you did."

Heat blooms on her cheeks. Oh—

He straightens his back. "Goodnight, Rey.”

And then, suddenly, she realizes the reason behind the games he plays... Why Rey wishes she could turn back time, erase and rewrite this whole wretched evening. Every single moment of it.

Except one.

“Goodnight, Ben.”

The wild beat of her heart when he stands this close.

She leaves him alone with his sharp profile trained on the two moons.

Chapter Text

He’s awfully quiet when he comes down the next morning.

He takes a seat at the head of the kitchen table, dressed in an impeccable black suit and with his dark hair combed back and falling in perfect glossy waves as always. He’s freshly shaven and smells sinfully good, and Rey practically buries her face in her large steaming mug of caf inhaling a lungful of its bitter scent.

Because she cannot be this affected by him already.

He settles in his chair, tugging on the cuffs of his shirt, seemingly indifferent. Nothing betrays the agony of their previous night—but Rey knows better by now. When he looks at her, she feels the whole room shrink away. It physically hurts having him so close to her.

Finn sitting next to her is completely oblivious to their exchange, as he continues to crunch blissfully away on his cereal. Leia Organa stirs sugar in her morning tea, watching her son out of the corner of her eye.

“Are you leaving so soon?”

“I am.”

“Staying an extra day wouldn’t bring about the end of the galaxy as we know it, Ben.”

“The High Chancellor doesn’t have a day, mother,” he responds broodily, reaching for his cup of caf. “He’s already on his way to Coruscant to meet with Markus, Frederick, and a few others. I can’t be late on my own planet.”

“You’re still recuperating from your wounds. I don’t think any of them would’ve been willing to run to meetings  a handful of days after nearly losing their lives.”

Ben sniffs. “I highly doubt they’re in any condition to run anywhere.”

Leia raises an eyebrow at him “Don’t be cocky about your age, young man. You still have a lot to learn, and thinking with the right head is one of them.”

He pauses in the middle of picking up a small doughnut from the platter in front of Rey, long fingers digging in the sugared cream, and glares at his mother for a long moment. He then sets the doughnut on his plate, smacking his thumb between his plush lips and lifting his cup of caf with fingertips wrapped tightly around the porcelain. Rey never believed she would notice such small things about anyone up until now. 

“I don’t understand what you’re insinuating,” he declares. “I always think with a clear head.”

His mother hums accusingly at him. “It didn’t seem that way yesterday at the discussions.”

“I am not having this conversation with you.”

“Then I suggest you start acting with the maturity that your position demands. The galaxy is at stake, here!”

“You think I don’t know that?” He booms suddenly. Finn snaps his head up while Rey slurps on her caf innocently, trying to make herself as small and inconspicuous as possible in the morning debate that has erupted between mother and son. “You think I don’t know? You of all people should understand what I’m trying to accomplish, mother! You disappoint me.”

“Ben, I do know…I understand the reasons behind all your struggles. Behind the battleships you have ordered for manufacture and your urgency to get everyone’s approval. I understand the reasons why you have approached the Chiss. Trying to make them part of the Republic—”

Rey’s eyes snap to him.

The Chiss?

“I know the reasons, Ben. I understand them more than anyone else.” She wraps her small hand around his forearm. “But this alliance doesn’t have to be at a personal cost.”

Ben has made a deal with the Chiss? No one has ever been able to accomplish that before.

A feeling akin to dread wraps around Rey’s chest.

“But the Republic turned them down! What else could I—?” He stops mid-sentence, pushing his untouched plate away. He rubs at his eyes. “Coruscant is a powerful economic ally for them. They have agreed to help us against the First Order if war erupts. They are already tracking down Snoke's movements in the Unknown Regions and informing me about them. They wouldn’t have done so if they didn’t see the benefits of this alliance.”

“I wasn’t aware of how far your discussions had progressed. Hannah must have really  influenced her father.”

“She has.” His voice is barely audible by now.

Rey feels a numbness so bone-deep she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to stand on her legs again. Ben really is marrying for political reasons. And he has picked a very powerful, but secluded and proud, world to make an alliance with. One that he cannot take his word back from.

So this is it…

Rey swallows around a tight throat. She had been so close to giving in to him yesterday. So close to letting him touch her or letting him—

Rey swears she never would have been able to come back from such a breaking point.

“Are you alright, child?” Leia says. She looks up to see everyone staring at her.

Ben’s eyes are on her as intense as always. And her heart is already starting to accelerate painfully at the mere thought of yesterday night, not to mention that her stomach is in knots now and she can’t eat a single bite anymore.

“You have a little crumb on the side of your—” he gestures awkwardly at his mouth while Rey watches him confused, “—lips.”

“Which lips?”

Ben looks pointedly at her, and to her dread, his eyes turn into simmering black. “Which ones are you thinking about, Rey?”

Oh, gods…

She quickly looks away, rubbing her face with a cloth. She can feel Leia Organa’s hawkish eyes switch over to Ben.

“You ok there, peanut?” Finn mumbles in confusion.

Rey nods with heated cheeks, digging her spoon into her yogurt zealously. She can practically feel Ben’s heavy gaze following her every movement. But she refuses to look back. She refuses to let him know anything about how he makes her feel.

She looks at Finn instead with a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think I have a bit of sunstroke from yesterday.” He smiles back relieved.

There’s a clanking of a fork on a porcelain plate.

“So, tell me…Fonn is it?” Ben leans back on his chair in what seems like deliberate nonchalance.

“It’s Finn.” He corrects him politely.

“Finn. Of course… Do forgive me, I nearly got killed the other day by your ex-employer. My memory is still playing tricks on me.”

“No problem.”

Ben curls his lips. “Do me a favor, and explain how is it that a Stormtrooper who’s working in … sanitation, was it?”

“Yes.”

“—has such good knowledge of Starkiller Base and the technological specifications needed to bring down a weapon of such magnitude.  Because call me overbearing or paranoid… it doesn’t add up.”

Finn straightens his back while Rey’s eyes sharpen on Ben. Really? Does he want to do this now?

“He isn’t lying.” She quickly rises to Finn’s defense.

“I’m not accusing him of lying,” he drawls. “I’m simply being curious.”

“No, you’re not. You’re accusing him of being a spy!”

“Rey, it’s fine,” Finn sets his hand on her forearm which Ben doesn’t miss. “I can handle him.”

Ben chuckles darkly. “Handle me? Who do you think you’re speaking to, Stormtrooper?”

“Ben!” His mother interferes. “Do I need to remind you that Finn is our guest? And I believe we have already established his credibility. What are you trying to prove?”

“He's not trying to prove anything. He’s just being his usual arrogant self.” Rey looks at him pointedly.

“What I’m trying to do, Rey, is get to the bottom of what happened the other night. Someone knew I would be alone, and sent Snoke’s rabid curs to hunt me down.”

“It sounds like you should be checking out your immediate surroundings then, and leave Finn out of this. You know damned well that Finn had nothing to do with the attempt.”

He glares at her for a long moment before pursing his lips and tossing the breakfast cloth on the table. He scrapes his chair back and gets up.

“Ben, you can’t be serious,” Leia exclaims. “Sit down and have your breakfast.”

“I’ve lost my appetite.” He grits out. “My ship should be here at any moment and I have a lot on my mind.”

He storms for the kitchen doors but stops a few paces before reaching them. He turns to face Rey with that stony facade she’s really starting to despise. “The Stormtrooper will be joining Dameron on his mission. You are free to join them too if you wish.”

Rey’s stomach falls right through the floor. “Don’t you want me protecting you anymore? Don't you want me next to you?”

“That’s not—” he pauses clearing his voice and shutting his eyes for a split moment. “That’s not what I said. I’m simply giving you the option to leave if you no longer want to be… next to me. That’s all.”

Rey swears she can hear the whirring of a cleaning droid on the other side of the house.

“I want to stay with you.”

He stares at her silently for a few tense moments with a clenched jaw. And nods.

Leia looks over at Rey, just as Ben hurries out of the kitchen. “Is there something I should know about? Has he made you feel uncomfortable in any way?”

She shakes her head. “No, ma’am. Why would you think that?”

“I know my son.”

“He’s been nothing but cordial towards me.”

Leia studies her with those intelligent eyes that resemble so much her son’s. She doesn’t seem to buy it, but doesn’t say anything else to inconvenience her. “Do try to look out for him, child,” she says softly.  “You’re my only hope.”

Somehow, the promise that comes out from her weighs heavier than any other promise Rey has ever made.

“I will.”

.

.

.

Rey doesn’t get to talk to him much throughout the day because the moment they board his ship, he’s instantly flanked by Kaydel and two of his team with reports at hand, filling him in on the latest developments in Coruscant.

Jeff walks up to greet her with a warm smile, but her gaze remains glued on Ben’s tailored back, as he makes his way down the corridor of the ship and towards the Conference room. He hasn’t signaled for her to follow him. He hasn’t even looked at her since breakfast in the kitchen.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I— Yes. I’m fine.”

“Would you like to get something to drink at the ship’s lounge? I still have a few more moments to spare before the Governor, you know, decides to grind me with questions. I think he gets worse by the day,” he laughs but Rey doesn’t join him. She doesn’t even find his teasing remark funny.

“The Governor is under a lot of pressure trying to protect the galaxy from the First Order. Maybe you should cut him some slack.”

Jeff flinches but Rey finds herself not really caring. It’s not the first time Jeff has spoken badly about Ben and Rey feels guilty for having done so in the past as well.  Even in a light, humorous way.

“Thank you for the offer,” she continues. “But I don’t want to distract you from your work. I’ll be in the ship’s cockpit if the Governor needs me.”

His face falls. “Sure, no problem. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Rey watches him enter the Conference room, making a mental note to herself not to let anyone from Ben’s team slide by without, at least, skimming their surface thoughts first.

The ship cuts through hyperspace as if it’s a knife.

Rey strikes a conversation with the ship’s pilots and is given permission to fly the ship on her own. So she settles in the pilot’s seat excited to get her hands on such state of the art technology. She wraps her hand around the lever with a small thrill running down her spine. It feels amazing. The sleek sensation of the lever in her hand, the engine vibrating smoothly beneath it, and the idea that she’s in control of such a powerful ship.

His ship.

It makes her feel—

Flustered actually. Because her mind is spiraling into a place she’s most definitely not allowed to enter. She jumps out of the seat and the pilot scrabbles to take over in panic.

Rey tries not to look at the lever again for the remainder of the trip.

The trip doesn’t last long, as expected. Soon enough, she’s on Ben’s side walking down the ramp and onto the landing bay of what seems to be an important Government building. Coruscant lies in all its architectural magnificence beneath their feet, causing Rey to stare in awe at the view.

“There’s no time for sightseeing,” Ben says. His brow is furrowed, and strands of hair are already starting to fall from their place—the telltale sign of him running his hand through it enough times already.

Ben is stressed.

Rey stands in his meeting a few feet away from him, with her hands clasped behind her back and her feet slightly spread on the ground. She stares impassively out the large window of yet another Conference room in the Government district, at the endless expanse of towers and domed buildings stretching all the way to the far horizon of what used to be the capital city of the Old Republic. The arguments are tense as a handful of main Core leaders try to decide on a plan to face the First Order. But personal vendettas and economic rivalries are getting in the way.

Ben seems composed. He has won over the majority of the leaders, including the High Chancellor, but there are still a few who seem reluctant to oppose the First Order and are pushing for negotiations.

From what Finn has told her about Snoke and the Order, the notion sounds ludicrous.

The meeting runs late into the night and an ugly argument between Ben and the Prime Minister of Corellia eventually erupts, with snide remarks and hits below the belt from both sides. Rey decides to shove the Prime Minister of Corellia into his seat with the Force, after a particularly nasty comment about Ben’s lineage—Darth Vader to be exact. Everyone turns to stare at her in shock, except for Ben, who simply raises a brow at her impressed, before he goes on to threaten Corellia with removing all of Coruscant’s banking branches from the planet. The Prime Minister remains seated after that. And silent.

The day has had its toll on Ben.

Rey can see it in the curve of his hunched shoulders and the solemn expression on his face, as they make their way down the long corridors of the Government building. She would have never noticed the difference a few weeks ago.

The corridors that had been bustling with activity earlier in the afternoon, are now practically empty. Just an employee here and there doing late night work under an office's lone light. Their capes flare and footsteps echo in the empty halls, the only sound heard besides the whirring of the cleaning droids. He remains silent. And distant.

They board his black shuttle without a single exchange of words. Rey sits next to a window, marveling once more at the view of the city, while he sits across from her, looking quietly out his own. He remains buried deeply in his shadows, the occasional outside light illuminating his face.

Rey can’t bear to see him so sullen.

“Did you notice the Prime Minister’s face when everyone agreed to your propositions?” she comments in an attempt to lift his spirits. It works. A little. He sniffs disdainfully in the darkness, and she even thinks she sees him smirk.

“He looked like a Gungan out of water,” he drawls.

Rey snorts, covering her mouth to suppress a giggle. “His color must have gone through every possible shade of purple.”

He chuckles heartedly, and Rey can sense his dark gaze linger on her face for a few moments, before he withdraws and looks out his window again.

Rey decides to leave him be.

The shuttle doesn’t take them to his estate like she had expected. Instead, it lands on the small private landing bay on the top floor of a luxurious apartment building. Two of his security men are standing guard outside the main entrance. The night is pleasant and the sky is quiet, and Rey can see the tension on Ben’s shoulders slowly subside as they approach the doors.

“Good evening, sir. My lady.”

“Good evening, Mike.” He acknowledges the guards, and signals for them to fall at ease. “Damon.”

“Sir.”

Rey smiles at the men.

“Is this place yours as well?” She asks, as the doors hiss open, and a few lights turn on upon their entry.

He removes his overcoat and tosses it on a chair. “Yes, it’s close to the Government district. I find it convenient.”

“So, I’ll be staying here with you?”

“You’re my bodyguard,” he shrugs, moving into the lounge. 

Rey follows him, taking a look around the large apartment. It’s modern, unpretentious but very impersonal, composed mainly of sleek dark wood, metal surfaces and glass. Its decorations are few but tasteful, and there are impressive paintings— no doubt created by the best contemporary artist money can buy— hanging in strategic spots that add color and balance to the overall masculine simplicity of his home.

The overall effect matches him as a character. On the surface.

He has disappeared without a word in the apartment, while Rey is left alone to roam around the lounge, dining room, and pristine kitchen, to further explore, discover and piece together this enigmatic man who wants to control and govern all.

She’s about to enter an office when she spots something that leaves her with a gaping mouth. There are a few framed sketches made with charcoal on white parchment hanging at the end of a corridor that leads to what must be the bedrooms. Rey wouldn’t have given them any other thought. No more than the rest of the artwork decorating his place, that is. But they are sketches of Luke’s Academy and its students, and in the middle of them all, there’s a portrait of a young sleeping girl, with her face half-buried in a pillow and her hand hanging off the side of the bed. 

It’s none other than her own ten-year-old self.

“Ben?”

Has he made it himself? It’s too accurate to be made by some random artist. It looks so much like her and… it’s hanging in his apartment. Her ten-year-old portrait is hanging in his apartment... Rey can’t wrap her mind around what this means.

“Ben is this—”

“You? Yes.”

He has emerged from one of the doors, slipping on a soft, black sleeping shirt. He brushes by her, barely giving the portrait a glance. Or her.

Then this must mean… He’s thought about me.

“Did you know who I was when Luke introduced me to you?”

“I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t until you mentioned your last name being Jakku that I figured out what he and my mother were up to.”

“What do you mean?”

He enters the kitchen, walks up to the refrigerator, and opens it with Rey hot at his trails. It’s stocked to the brim with vegetables and fruit and meats and cheeses and all sorts of food that Rey can’t wait to get her hands on. But Ben only pulls out a bottle of food supplement, cracks open its lid and starts downing the content while making his way to his office.

Rey hates when he ignores her this way. He’s very good at ignoring her when he doesn’t want to answer a question that makes him uncomfortable. But Rey never did let that slide. Not even when she was young.

“What were Luke and your mother up to? Why am I involved?”

He pauses by the door and turns around warily. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, I am not going to be the one to tell you.” He states and disappears inside. “Make yourself comfortable and tell me what you want to eat. I’ll have a cooking droid prepare something for you.” Rey can hear his voice drift to her from inside the office.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I have work to do.”

Rey huffs. Stubborn man.

She hates when he speaks in riddles.

Rey glances back at the refrigerator and feels her stomach give out a grumble of approval. They haven’t eaten anything since this morning in Chandrila, and Rey has been suppressing the protests of her stomach for hours. Ben on the other hand doesn’t seem to be particularly affected by hunger. Apart from his foul mood, that is. In fact, Rey can’t recall when she’s seen him have a proper meal. In Chandrila Leia was constantly badgering him to have something to eat, while he stalked around the house with just a mug of caf in his hand.

Rey shrugs. If he wants to starve himself, that’s his prerogative. She’s hungry and plans on invading that refrigerator for food.

A half-hour later, and after a good search and rummaging through the spotless and never before used kitchen for the proper utensils, Rey has managed to put together a semblance of dinner. The buttered vegetables are steaming on a plate on the table, a fresh salad has been chopped up and sprinkled with oil and cider dressing, and she's about to finish grilling two bantha steaks seasoned with spices—just in case he changes his mind. The kitchen exhaust is on, so when she feels his head lean over her shoulder to take a look at what she’s cooking, Rey nearly jumps in fright.

“You have got to stop creeping up on me.”

“What are you making?”

“What does it look like I’m making?”

“Don’t be a smartass. I'm not in the mood.”

"What will you do? Spank me?" she snorts, while removing the steak from the grilling pan. She sets it on a plate and sprinkles herbs on top. He has tensed up next to her but he has wisely chosen not to comment. Her mood is just as foul when she's hungry, so stars only know where that argument would lead.

“It’s called dinner, Ben. I haven’t eaten anything all day and I'm starving. You might be satisfied with that stupid food supplement from your overstuffed refrigerator—but I need actual food inside me. So, if you don’t’ mind, run along and go back to your office to pester whoever you feel like you have to at this late hour, and let me eat in peace. You have barely spoken to me all day. Why start now?”

She shrugs past him, grabs a knife and fork, and settles at the table where the rest of the food is neatly set in platters and bowls. She’s about to start cutting her juicy steak when she hears a screech of a chair and sees Ben settling across from her. She tries to ignore his presence, and goes on to stuff her mouth with the delicious steak. She moans around the bite and nods to herself.

“This is really, really good.” She has to admit she did a pretty good job even at this late hour.

She forks some lettuce and adds it to her mouth, chewing happily away, despite Ben’s indiscernible gaze set on her.

“Do you want some?” She asks, reluctantly, around a full mouth. She really hopes not because she’s very hungry. She could easily down his steak, as well.

He shakes his head no but continues to watch her, eyes intense and unwavering from her. Rey doesn’t know what to make of him at times. “Aren’t you hungry at all?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you eat?” She gestures at the food on the table with her fork.

“I can’t.”

Rey stops chewing, and looks at him. Those dark eyes are staring at her as if she is something he would have for a meal. Rey tries not to pay attention. She knows how dangerous it can be to play games with this man.

“Ben, I’m serious.”

“As am I.”

“Are you allergic to food?”

An unexpected smile breaks on his face. He looks away. "No."

“I noticed your mother was trying to persuade you to eat something back at home. But you ignored her.”

“She’s always after me about something.”

“It’s called concern.”

He fiddles with her glass, twirling it between his long fingers. He avoids looking at her. Rey stuffs a steamed vegetable in her mouth and chews pensively.

“Do you live alone?” she asks.

“I don’t enjoy company in my apartment. Not unless I seek it.”

There’s that look again.

Rey pauses, feeling her bite drop to her stomach like lead. She pushes her plate away and wipes her mouth. “I don’t want to impose.” She goes to stand up.

“No. Wait!” his hand flies to hers.

Rey stops.

“I don’t mind you. I never minded you... Please. Sit,” he says, quickly pulling his hand away.

Rey does as he says, but feels this conversation has taken a turn she hadn't seen coming. She doesn’t want a repeat of that night by the lake, and she can’t remain in his presence without drawing certain lines. Without knowing about the kind of company he allows in his apartment. The last thing she needs is to come across his fiancée one jolly morning as she walks out of the fresher, or stumble upon some random woman coming out of his bedroom. It makes her stomach twist in on itself, and suddenly Rey is not that hungry anymore.

“Doesn’t Hannah come to see you? Don’t the two of you spend time together? You’re supposed to be getting married in—” Hell, when are they supposed to be getting married? Rey doesn’t even know that.

“A month,” he mumbles, raking a hand through his hair. He makes it seem as if it’s a death sentence. And maybe in a sense, it is.

For them. The traitorous little thought slips into her mind before she’s able to stop it. Her chest clenches painfully.

Only a month.

“Hannah and I have a deal,” he begins, running his index finger around the rim of her glass. “Her father is the head of the Chiss Aristocra. She helps me gain her father’s trust, and I give her a way out of the society she so desperately wants. Our marriage is the ticket.”

“But it’s still a marriage you don’t want to go through.”

“Don’t sound like my mother! You’re not here to question the decisions I make.” He scrabbles off his chair, nearly knocking it to the ground. “We don’t know the military capacity of the First Order. The Republic needs to be prepared for the worst. And if the Republic refuses to see the danger of such a regime gaining power, then I have to do something about it!”

“Ben, I wasn't— ”

He turns his back to her, and grips the kitchen counter—his rough breathing the unmistakable evidence of anxiety coursing through his body.

Rey suddenly believes she understands. Understands the reasons behind his cold demeanor and his quick to rise temper. Behind his sleepless nights and the loneliness that plagues him. His search for pleasures of the flesh. His insatiable need to control and dominate. His constant want for things he cannot have.

His hunger.

Rey believes all these characteristics are interconnected somehow. And it will be extremely hard to unravel and bring to the light the reasons that morphed him into being the man he is now. He might not even be aware of them himself. He might not know how to deal with them.

He doesn’t eat.

She realizes all of a sudden. Ben barely eats… She quickly flips back to all the times she’s been with him. The Senate, his ship, Canto bight. Chandrila. The way he’s watched her eat the simplest of foods with burning eyes, when all she has seen him eat in return are a few meager bites. Is he punishing himself? Who knows what other strange habits have risen from this overwhelming weight on his shoulders. Rey wonders if Ben is striving to accomplish more than just protecting the Republic. If he’s trying to uphold his legacy.

Or trying to burn it to the ground.

Rey rubs her forehead.

Protecting Ben from himself is far more difficult than protecting him from Snoke. Were Leia and Luke aware of his condition when they called her in?

She glances at Ben. He still has his back turned to her and his head hanging between his shoulders.

Rey slips off her chair. She takes her plate and fork and pads toward him. He doesn’t move when she climbs on the kitchen counter with her plate on her lap.

“Ben?”

“Rey, I can’t fight you too.”

“I know.”

Can she do this?

She raises her fork towards him. There’s a piece of buttered green vegetable on its tip.

“I think I should have put a little more salt. But I’m not sure. And it might be slightly overcooked now that I look at it.”

He slides his eyes at the fork.

“It looks fine.”

She slips it in her mouth and moans a little at its taste. His gaze remains trained on her and she thinks she sees it simmer a little. She forks a piece of meat and points it at him.

Can she help him carry the weight of his decisions?

“I think this definitely needs salt. Can you tell me what you think? Please?”

He stares at the bite seemingly in battle with himself. But sure enough, after a long moment of hesitation, he leans in, opens his mouth, and wraps his lips around the tip of the fork. He peels back chewing.

“Don’t be in a hurry,” she says. “Savor the taste. I can wait.”

She forks two more vegetables and points them his way, as well.

Will she be able to walk away from him when the time comes?

“Try these with the steak. I think it brings out the taste better. It must be the butter.”

He nods, taking the food into his mouth.

He stares at her, and somehow Rey senses that he knows what she’s up to. But there’s no anger behind his soulful eyes. Just sadness. Infinite sadness and acceptance. Probably of his fate.

Rey feels her eyes start to sting. She should probably look away and not let him see, but she can’t.

He swallows and seems to be about to say something, but Rey lifts her hand to caress his scarred face. He closes his eyes and leans into her touch. Rey doesn’t know if she will have an undamaged piece of her heart left in the end.

“Don’t say anything,” she whispers. “Just eat.”

No. She definitely won’t.

The soft flesh of his tongue appears, licking a drop of sauce from the corner of his lips. It disappears in an instant, but it leaves Rey staring at the spot that now glistens, with bated breath and her insides clenched in a want she cannot name.

He lifts his dark eyes to look at her.

There’s a loud clatter as the plate slips from her lap to the floor. Rey scurries off the counter and rushes down the hall to one of the bedrooms. Ben calls out her name but she shuts the door behind her with a heaving chest. Her knees feel weak and her head alight and she slides down to the floor in a tangle of limbs and emotions.

And prays. 

Prays that the door will be enough to keep her from seeking out those lips herself.

The Chiss and the link at Wookiepedia

Chapter Text

“Open the door, Rey.”

She stares at her tiny young self in the mirror with wide, horrified eyes. She should have never tried to cut her hair all on her own. How will she ever be able to face any of the padawans again? “I promise I won’t laugh…”

But there’s nothing to laugh about now.

Rey shuts her eyes at the sound of the voice outside her door. She sits on the floor with knees drawn to her chest, wanting nothing more than to reach out and do as it asks—only she can't. Mind and logic and anything dignified left in her plead for her to remain strong. Not to give in.

"Have I done something to make you feel uncomfortable without being aware?"

"No," she turns her head towards Ben’s muffled voice. "It's not that—"

"Then there's no reason for you to hide. Open the door."

"I can’t—"

“Why not?”

“Because I don't want to! Go to your office. Finish your work."

"I'm not going anywhere until you open this door.”

"You're being stubborn!"

“And you’re being childish!”

Maybe. Rey doesn't remember sitting huddled like a kid in ages, feeling as if her chest is about to go supernova—yet here she is. Watching her very core crumble in on itself.

“Rey, just—” There’s a long pause and then a light thump on the metal door, "—let me in."

But that's just the problem. She can’t let him in. She won’t know how to push him out again. She sighs, letting her head fall back against the wall. "Ben, I said I can’t."

Another pause before the timber of his voice lowers, becoming rich and smooth.

"Baby girl…don't do this." 

Spreading like a balm on her insides.

She presses her fingers to her eyes and thumps her head against the wall. How has she allowed this to happen? Let herself be dependent on the shifting of his voice, allowing his needs and desires to affect her so deeply, making her bend and twist to his every whim. This isn’t her. This isn’t the strong Jedi she has worked so hard to become. All she longs for these days is to be in his presence. Feel his dark eyes on her. Breathe the same air as him. Rey wants to laugh at this cosmic joke.

She can’t resist him. She feels doomed.

Rey gestures with the Force and the door hisses open. He steps inside with caution, eyes falling on her immediately. He comes to stand before her, this giant of a man casting his shadow over her folded figure.

“What are you doing on the floor?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She wipes at her welling tears because, seriously, how much lower can she stoop.

He’s frowning as if he wants to chide her for doing something incredibly stupid. It makes her want to bury herself in shame.

“Get up.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said get up. I expect better of you.”

She side-eyes him. “Ben, go away. I don’t feel like being lectured.”

“Don’t argue with me.”

Rey looks to the side. She really, really wishes he would go away and let her be. Let her crawl into some dark hole and lick at her wounded pride. Instead of hovering over her, ready to drag her out of her hiding place from the very roots of her hair, judging from the expression on his face.

She clenches her jaw and gathers the remains of her pride. She slowly gets off the floor. She smooths away the folds on her tunic, straightens her body and raises her chin, all the while avoiding the judgement in his eyes. She feels as if she’s a lowlife criminal hiding in the most loathsome allies of Correlia. 

“Why did you run away?”

“I didn’t run away. I merely felt like I should just… leave you on your own for a bit because you seemed so… distressed.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“I— no.”

He doesn’t say anything back so she darts a quick glance at him to gauge his reaction. She immediately regrets it because he’s staring at her as if she’s on the brink of insanity. 

“Rey— ”

Gods that voice…

She senses him take a step closer. “You know there’s no point in hiding anymore,” he says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She takes a step back. Better keep her distance from him.

“Are you intimidated by me?” 

She scoffs. “No.” It’s a silly notion, really.

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

A pause. “At times.” Might as well be honest.

“What times?”

She glances at him. His eyes on her are intense and very, very hard to read.  “Like, right now.”

He stills. Whatever concern was written on his features is replaced by a dark cognizance. “Do you know why?”

She wraps her arms around herself and stares at the patterned designs of the carpet. “It doesn't matter. It’s not important.”

He arches a brow. “Isn’t it, now?” He approaches, and Rey steps back only to feel the wall against her back. “What’s important for you then?”

“I am a Jedi. I wield the Light Side of the Force to help bring peace and justice to the galaxy. ”

“Is that all you are? All that you want?”

Why does his tone of voice sound so taunting? “Yes.”

He tilts his head, looking at her like a cat would at a mouse. She definitely feels like one, now that her heart starts to thump against her ribcage so quickly. He crowds her in, no doubt wishing to dig his claws into her.

“Then what is it that you want from me, Jedi?” He practically purrs. “Why does your pulse rise and breath quicken when you’re around me? Why do you allow your desire for me to seep into the Force?”

She shakes her head, trying to look away. “I do no such thing.”

“Ah, but you do—” he leans in even closer. “It’s already seeping through your underclothes.”

She looks at him, red-faced and appalled, ready to shove him across the room if he dares come any closer. But he pulls away, satisfied with the reaction he got from her.

“You’re attracted to me,” he states simply, as if she’s the specimen of an experiment and he has just gathered the results he has been seeking. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I don’t give into basal instincts,” she grits out. But he isn’t deterred.

“When you’re tired, you go to sleep,” he says. “When you’re hungry, you eat. Sexual desire is like any other instinct. There’s no reason for you to be ashamed of it. Don’t repress it. Acknowledge and control it.”

She points her finger at him because how dare he speak of control when his lowly impulses and unhinged emotions destroy everything that’s worth saving in him.

“You shouldn’t talk! Not with the behavior you’ve shown so far!”

He takes a step back but not because he feels threatened in any way. “I don’t want you to be like me, Rey,” he says softly—and there is something heartbreakingly vulnerable in the way he says it. “I want you to be better.”

He continues to back step towards the room’s dresser. It’s a large, solid piece of furniture, made of dark ebony wood with a large mirror accompanying it that takes up a good part of the wall. He stands before it, looking at her.

“Come here,” he dictates. “There’s something I want to show you.”

It’s embarrassing how easily her body obeys.

He extends his hand, gesturing for her to come and stand in front of the mirror as he towers behind her, his tall broad frame a striking contrast to her slender almost delicate figure. Rey feels her senses scream in warning, because the way his eyes burn behind that serious expression on his face is dangerous and should not be taken lightly.

“Look—” he says.” What do you see?”

 She attempts to move away, warily. “I don’t want to play any more games with you.”

“This is no game.” He catches her eyes in the mirror.

She wills her features into indifference. Alright, fine. Whatever. “I see you and me.”

He brings his head over her shoulder, not for a second releasing her reflection. “Do you want to know what I see?” He rumbles. His voice courses through her body, making every nerve-ending thrum with some kind of anticipation.

She tries to quench it. Refuse its very existence.

“I can see the innocent little girl you used to be. Resilient. Strong. And with the most beguiling of smiles—” he says softly. “Do you remember?”

It is the last thing she expects to hear from him, and she is completely unprepared for that pang of nostalgia that settles inside her chest. Rey blinks, feeling her eyes blur.

“I can see the powerful Jedi you have become,” he continues with what sounds like reverence. “Noble and true to your beliefs, but fierce and deadly at the same time. A fighter that tries to save me in more ways than one.”

Her throat tightens and her heart starts to pound. She turns her head to look at him because his voice sounds so thick. Does he really believe what he says? Is this what he thinks of her? Truly thinks of her?

But Ben is still staring at their joined reflection. “I can see—” he trails off.

He shifts behind her and his facade starts to crack. Rey looks back at the mirror with an emotion that’s starting to run rampant in her chest.

“I can see the beautiful woman you hide so deep inside. Clever and charming and struggling to be released. You don’t realize your potential— You don’t let yourself rise.”

Ben speaks with such intensity, such captivating passion that Rey can’t take her eyes off him. His hands come to hover over the curve of her shoulders, a hair away from touching her. She can feel the heat radiate on her skin.

“You are such a beautiful woman, Rey, and you hide behind the warrior. You consider your femininity a weakness when it’s in fact the nature of your strength. If being a warrior is all you want for yourself. If this is the life you want to live, then there’s nothing more for me to say—” He pauses as if he waits for a response. But she’s unable to give one.

He leans in lightly, almost as if emboldened by her silence, roaming those dark eyes over her body. Tugging at her restraints. Willing for them to snap. “But you can’t tease me and touch me and look at me the way you do and expect me to be unaffected. You don’t realize what you do to me—” 

He stops and slides his gaze back up to her face.

Rey realizes she can’t breathe.

“You don’t realize the things you make me feel —”

He turns his head to look at her and Rey does the same. His face is so close and his lips just a breath away. Rey feels like she would do anything to have a taste. For one single moment. A heartbeat of her life.

But he doesn’t grant her that. She leans in just as he moves away and stares back at the mirror.

“I want you to see how breathtaking you are. I want you to see what I see.”

She blinks at him powerless.

“I won’t hurt you,” he continues hoarsely. “I won’t touch you and I won’t hold you back if you wish to leave. Do you understand?”

Rey nods.

“Say it.”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

He takes a small step back.

“Turn and face the mirror.”

“Why? What do you plan on—”

He tuts. “No questions. No talking. Do as I say.”

She looks at their joined images again. Waits wide-eyed.

His hands rise and his fingers thread in the buns of her hair, removing the binders slowly. Ceremoniously. She watches it fall on her slim shoulders wave after wave after wave in some kind of liberating notion or strange seductive undertone. It’s hard to tell. He looks at her, face pressed lightly on her chestnut strands.

“Remove your belt.”

Rey hesitates for a moment, hands hovering over the fastenings of her belt, but she empties her mind and does as he commands. He has promised not to hurt her—and she is free to leave whenever she wants.

But she chooses to stay.

There’s a light thud as her belt falls to the floor.

“Now, your arm wraps. Slowly.”

Rey realizes what he expects of her. His behavior is so similar to that night by the lake. He doesn’t want any objections to his simple but strange commands, and the most clashing sensations rise because of them. An unexplained need to do as he asks in order to satisfy him, and at the same time a gut instinct to break free. 

She hears him voice articles of clothes one by one, pronouncing every syllable with perfect clarity, while she removes them with trembling hands and burning cheeks. She can feel her skin break into goosebumps when the cool air of the room and his simmering gaze come in contact with her newly exposed skin, as Rey stands in front of the mirror in just her breast wrap and under clothes.

His voice is hoarse when he commands her to take them off.

Rey hesitates again and reaches out to him with the Force. She expects him to snap shut but realizes to her surprise that he’s leaving himself wide open. He allows her to probe his thoughts, his intentions. His desire.

A light tremble courses down her body when she finally stands bare before his unwavering gaze. Rey wants to cover herself.

“No,” he says. “I want to see all of you.”

Her arms fall to her sides. Rey watches the quick rise and fall of her chest in the mirror, waiting nervously for his next words.

“Now, put your fingers between your legs.”

Her breath hitches.

His lips are next to her ear and his command comes out as a breath. “I want you to slide your fingers inside your wet cunt and find that sweet spot that will make your body tingle and knees go weak, and I want you to circle it and rub it until you can barely stand.”

Rey realizes how throbbing and wet she already is. How right he had been all along about her body’s reaction to him, without even laying a single finger on her. His eyes are fixed on her and she does exactly as he tells her to do, with a mind too numb to conjure any coherent thought. Her hand slips between her folds, as if she’s in a dream. Her body jolts at the sensation.

“That’s my sweet girl—”

Rey swallows as his eyes sweep over the apex of her thighs, as they consume her naked body and come alive.

“Touch yourself, Rey… Touch your body in all the ways you will never allow me to touch you.”

Rey shuts her eyes feeling embarrassed. But the way he says those words—the desperation hidden in his voice and the need that emanates from him, encourage her to explore her body.

She circles her fingers around the sensitive spot he has instructed her to touch, a sudden tingling sensation coursing deep inside her. An unexpected moan spills into the room that, for all she knows, could be equally part her own as well as his. She continues the tight, small movements, over and over, feeling a heaviness begin to build down low. All the while he watches dutifully, collecting her whimpers one by one as if they belong to him.

“Faster, Rey... Do it faster for me.”

She does as he demands. Because, stars, how could she not?

“Harder, baby girl—”

Rey obeys with a near sob. She glances at his reflection with hooded eyes just as his tongue darts to glisten his lips. He watches her as if he’s starving.

“ Now bury a finger deep inside you. Get it nice and slick for me—” His head dips on her shoulder and his hands hover over her thighs. She can feel his soft hair caress her skin and his hot breath come out in short pants. He seems to be in great discomfort. Suffering almost. But she doesn’t understand why— She’s done exactly as she’s been told. 

“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he groans. “It’s my fingers that should be buried inside you.”

Rey catches herself smiling, all flushed cheeks and dilated eyes. She realizes she enjoys the effect she has on him. It makes her feel—

“Give me your fingers Rey, I want to taste you.”

Her breath leaves her body in a whimper at his command and her eyes widen. But she obediently removes her fingers, glistening with her slickness, and raises them shakily to his parted lips. She swallows around a tight throat. She doesn’t believe she’ll be able to watch him lick her fingers without her knees giving out. Her skin feels like it will go up in flames any minute now, and every ounce of apprehension has completely evaporated. He shuts his eyes as he takes her fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean and lapping his tongue around them.

Too much.

His mouth is so silky and wet and hot, Rey feels something empty inside her clench.

He pulls away, licking his lips like a lothcat would at its milk and seemingly satisfied for a moment before he fixes those dark eyes on her again through the mirror.

“I want to see more.”

Rey slips her fingers back in place without being told twice.

It’s maddening to watch her body respond to his deep voice and burning eyes with undulated pleasure. It collects and builds and grows inside her with every rub of her fingers, aspiring to climb up to a peak she’s too afraid to reach.

Her other hand rises to her collarbone feeling the wild pulse of her neck. Her head eventually falls on his shoulder as her whole body seeks for support. Rey shuts her eyes.

She latches on to Ben in the Force.

But this time the Force has nothing to do with the sensations back at the villa. There are no vulgar thoughts or lewd feelings lurking. It pulses and throbs with intensity, desire and adoration, and fleeting warm thoughts that Rey can’t fully grasp, as they all narrow down, inevitably, to one single, aching and wondrous emotion.

It emanates from him.

Rey’s on the precipice. Ready to grasp it.

“Look at you—” The voice croons next to her ear. She opens her eyes. His expression is almost intoxicated. Lost. And it makes her feel—

“Look at how beautiful you are.”

Rey floats, fingertips failing to touch that emotion. And then suddenly—a sigh.

“Let it all go, Rey.”

She falls.

Everything pulses in white.

Rey doesn’t know how long her body clenches in ecstasy.

Her ragged breath is the first thing she begins to feel when she comes back to the world. That and the wild thud of a strong heart.

There’s a low murmuring in her ear, soothing and gratifying, and strong arms are lifting her from the ground. She realizes she’s being held next to a solid body, too paralyzed to stand on her own two feet. It supports her and comforts her and Rey wants to remain wrapped in its warmth forever.

She sighs. Long and deep. Releasing the troubles of a lifetime.

He carries her. She feels the rhythm of his heavy steps as her legs dangle loosely at his side. He’s taking her someplace—it’s dark wherever it is, and the only thing she recognizes is the scent of musk lingering in the air.

“Ben is this your—”

“Shh… Go to sleep,” he commands once more. “You’re tired.”

She feels cool, crisp sheets covering her body, as she is carefully being lain on a soft mattress, and the warmest of blankets weighing her down. She can barely open her eyes. A heavy haze has settled in her mind and she knows it’s not natural. Ben is using his powers to snatch her consciousness away but it’s too late to stop him.

She slips into a restful place just as a comforting voice echoes in a dream.

“Rest, my love.”

A teenage boy caresses the hair away from her face.

Chapter Text

Rey wakes with a haze in her mind and a sweet relief in her body.

She raises her head from the soft pillow it's been buried in, to blink lazily at the rays of light shining timidly through the cracks of dark, heavy curtains. She tenses in alarm at the unknown environment for a split moment, before she allows her body to relax back into the mattress.

Because Rey knows exactly where she is—and what has happened.

She hides her face in the pillow, inhaling the familiar faint scent of musk in the sheets—his sheets, on his bed, in his room, that Rey has been sleeping in—and feeling her face heat with embarrassment at the memory of last night.

Her hand caresses the soft, cotton fabric.

She turns on her back, the rustling sound making her wonder if Ben spent the night next to her. She’s usually a very light sleeper and wakes at the faintest of sounds, so she’s fairly certain she would have sensed him in bed. Especially, since he’s such an imposing presence in the Force. But last night— obviously—affected… that perception as well.

She must have slept like a rock.

Rey feels a silly smile forming on her face, as she stretches her stiff body in the crisp, clean sheets. Stars, what an incredible bed, she thinks, while glancing around the room.

It looks austere under the half-light, like the rest of his apartment. Barely any personal belongings lying about to sate her curiosity. There’s a closet door to her right, and two nightstands with respective lamps on each side of the bed, a boring holoclock on the wall across, and a simple armchair at a corner with a whole new set of her clothes draped neatly on it because she’s obviously still very much… yeah.

If she could blush any further the crimson of her cheeks would stain his white sheets, no doubt. Because this is precisely the type of situation she never imagined she’d ever find herself in. She shifts to her side and stares at the empty spot beside her where she imagines Ben has slept. The pillow is puffy and full, and the covers are smooth and creaseless. Not a single ripple on the soft fabric.

His side of the bed hasn’t been touched—

Something inside her sinks.

Rey twists her face in the pillow, trying to concentrate on anything else but the hollow ache spreading inside her chest.

Voices are coming from outside the room so that means there are people in Ben’s apartment. Plenty of people from the sounds of it. She can’t make out his voice amongst them, but she figures he must already be out there somewhere, commandeering everyone to his heart’s content. She knows the feeling firsthand. 

Rey sighs. 

There's no point hiding in his room, trying to ignore the responsibilities of the day—or dwelling on what last night meant, and trying to break it down into little pieces that could fit in the tight confines of the Jedi Order. In fact, it would be an excellent idea to get out of his bed, take a nice long shower with running water—because she never lets an opportunity like this pass her by—and get dressed in the outfit he has chosen for her.

She also tries to ignore the fact that he has gone through her clothes with such brazen liberty. 

She shuts her eyes tightly, chiding herself for feeling so ashamed. He saw a lot more than her clothes yesterday night. No need to act so prudent about it. Right?

She sighs again and manages to get herself out of bed, wrapping the soft blanket around her body. She walks to his fresher bare feet padding soundlessly on the lacquered wooden floor, blanket trailing behind in a whisper, peeking curiously through the closet door that has been left partly open. There are rows of expensive suits and stylish cloaks that hang inside, all in the habitual morbid colors he loves to wear. His comlink is set casually on his dresser next to a pile of datapads, and a man's shirt is draped over the back of a chair. The same shirt he was wearing last night when he commanded her to take off her own clothes— 

Rey darts directly for his pristine, granite fresher, hoping that the feeling of hot running water will be enough to distract her from the onslaught of memories. 

There are droplets on the shower glass and a used towel thrown carelessly on top of the laundry basket. His shaving set is out in full display and looks recently used. Ben must have been in the fresher while she was still fast asleep. She touches his things reverently, fingering them carefully back in place, wondering what would have happened if she had woken up to see him in the room. Perhaps coming out of the fresher wearing only—

She blushes at the image.

It is a very nice image, but an image she can’t allow herself to indulge in. She can’t let her mind wander to moments that would be best for them both if they were not repeated. What happened last night must remain there. She must strengthen her resolve and stop giving in to him.

It sounds simple enough.

But Rey knows it's easier said than done. How can she possibly face him again without her cheeks heating in embarrassment? Without her body responding to the dark shades of his voice?

She sets his hairbrush down with a clank. Her skin feels warm and tight, and her heart is starting to pound erratically inside her chest, letting her know that the damage has already been done. Something inside her has changed and there’s no going back.

Rey steps into the shower, setting the water to cold.

Around twenty minutes later, she emerges from his room with her wet hair woven in a single tight bun in the back of her head, and struggling to wear her most impassive face for all to see. She steals herself for the curious glances.

Luckily, no one seems to notice where she came from, since they’re all absorbed in circling their Governor. A few members of his team are already in the lounge, and a stylist is fussing over his hair, while he sits in an armchair engrossed in a conversation with Amilyn Holdo and one of Coruscant’s many Ministers— Communications, she believes it is. Ben has donned his black and purple robes once again, wearing his Governor facade to perfection, and making Rey feel that his world has returned to being the usual cold barrier between them. 

Last night never happened.

She should feel relieved.

She shouldn't want to crawl back to his bed.

Ben must have seen her or sensed her approach, because his gaze lifts instantly when she walks into the lounge, causing her heart to skitter.

“Good morning. I was wondering when you would wake,” he says, eyes roaming over her fresh clothes knowingly. “You must have been exhausted. Did you sleep well?”

Rey is well aware of the connotation behind his seemingly innocent remark.

“I have a stiff neck,” she grumbles. “The mattress was too soft.”

There’s a glint of amusement in his eyes, and she doesn’t want to give him any more food for thought, so she looks away. Holdo smiles and the Minister bows his head in respect. Rey nods back politely, heading for the kitchen to pour herself a mug of caf and, hopefully, get some food in her stomach. Two assistants part way for her to pass, and she can hear Kaydel already going over the Governor’s itinerary for the day. 

Rey wants to groan. 

Councils and meetings and interviews, all day long, while she stands in the shadows of his magnetic power, watching him command planets and civilizations as if they mean nothing, wishing he would turn around and give her one single glance.

She rips open a cupboard to get a clean mug.

What in R’iia’s winds is wrong with her?

Rey has got to stop obsessing so much over his attention, and find something useful to preoccupy herself with during his long meetings. Such as reciting the Jedi code, or naming the moons orbiting the planet of Endor, or counting freckles on bald heads—anything, really. Otherwise, she will completely lose her mind over this man.

She has already lost her heart to him—

Rey shakes her head in irritation and aims for the refrigerator to make herself breakfast, avoiding the processed food that’s covering the table. 

She’s in the middle of picking out endorian chicken eggs, gill goat cheese, and vegetables to make an omelet when she realizes that Ben has decided to follow her into the kitchen, raising a string of objections from his Ministers. She hears him enter with a whoosh of his robes and the clicking of his shiny new shoes against the floor. She picks a few fresh fruits, shutting the refrigerator with a thud.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing. I have a headache.”

He has to get his hair done. And nails clipped. There’s no reason for him to be in the kitchen for small talk when he has a galaxy to run.

“A headache?” He chuckles smugly. “Is that what you want to call it? Very well, then. What can I do to help you deal with your headache?”

Arrogant man.

“I think you’ve done enough.”

He remains completely silent—not a single rustle of fabric. Rey sighs because her frustration might have come out a little harsher than intended. She turns to face him. He’s standing closer than she thought, looking at her with a guarded expression on his face.

“Are you upset about last night?” he asks.

“No.”

“Did I push you too far?”

She rubs her forehead and sets the food that’s still in her arms on the kitchen table. She doesn’t want to deal with last night’s aftermath right now. She'd rather she didn't have to at all. But he seems to be genuinely interested in addressing it—for whatever reason.

She sets her hand on the surface of the table feeling drained already. She really needs to get some food in her stomach.

“You didn’t push me too far. I didn’t object in any way. I’m fine.”

“Obviously, you’re not fine.” He tries to decipher her real thoughts—but she gives him none. His gaze falls on her hand resting on the table. His fingers reach out, awkwardly drawing patterns on the powdered sugar that has spilled on the dark surface. “Just for the record, there was no shady personal agenda behind what I asked you to do last night.”

He raises his eyes to look at her. There is something… adorable about his expression, reminding her of animal cubs. He has never looked at her this way before.

“Well, it doesn’t make much of a difference. It’s done and it was quite an experience, but it doesn’t change anything between us.”

“I see—” he trails off, something about his voice making her feel guilty.

She sighs and stares at the overhead kitchen lights. “I don’t quite know what to do with last night. It might be something ordinary to you, something that doesn’t hold much meaning.  But to me—”

“Who says it didn't hold any meaning for me?”

She slides her eyes back to his. They are very indiscernible.

“You probably engage in these sorts of activities the whole time with your partners,” she says.

“So?”

“Well, I’m not one of them, Ben!”

There’s this little part of her that wishes she hadn’t allowed him to go that far. But it’s not Ben she’s really upset with. She’s mad at herself for falling so easily prey to his seduction. He’s obviously very, very good at it.

His expression softens. “I know you’re not one of them. You are very different from any of the women in my life.”

And that’s exactly what she means.

“Don’t talk to me like that—”

“Like what?”

“As if I’m one of a kind. Is that what you do to all your conquests?”

He remains very silent and still. Just the lightest of bobs from his Adam’s apple.

She shakes her head and brushes the powdered sugar off the table, scraping the parts which are stuck with the nail of her thumb. She tries to get her emotions under check. His long fingers are still resting on the table, inches away from hers.

She feels him step closer. “I know that all these sensations and experiences are foreign to you. And that you’re curious and drawn to me—which I’m not saying in a condescending way,” he raises his hands in defense as she stares at him. “All I’m saying is that if you want to explore certain... activities,  I would much rather you experiment with me.”

“Why you?”

“Because I won’t hurt you, or push you to do things you don’t want to do and—”

“Maybe you already have.”

He hesitates, and Rey senses his uneasiness. Serves him good. She hates how self-assured he behaves the whole time.

“Did you take a shower in my fresher?”

The unexpected change of subject gets her scurrying for an excuse. Was she not allowed?

“I didn’t want anyone noticing me going from room to room in the state I was in. I hope you don’t mind?”

He nods, looking down again. He clears his voice. “I thought I recognized the scent of my shower wash on you.” He chews the inside of his cheek, collecting the last traces of sugar on a small pile on the table.

Rey swears his fingers have come closer to hers.

“You’re free to do as you please within the ranges of my property,” he continues in a slightly hoarse voice. “Make dinners or take showers in my fresher. Sleep like a rock in my bed—”

He smirks, and there is something a little impish about it.  Rey finds it hard to keep a straight face.

“I am not sleeping in your bed again. And you are not allowed to go through my clothes either.”

“I would much rather you slept in my bed, and I didn’t go through your clothes. How’s that for an arrangement? ”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Of course it does. You look good in my bed,” he grins. “Much better than you do in your clothes.” 

Rey feels her cheeks begin to burn. He can be so unreserved at times, so unabashed, making her pulse speed to the point where it throbs all over her body. This silly interaction, this small awkward conversation between them will probably be the highlight of her day, before the galaxy steals him away again. She quickly turns around and heads for the caf machine to pour herself a mugful of its hot content, and trying to calm her racing heart.

Ben, of course, follows her.

“I can’t sleep in your bed again—” she tells him in a small voice. She can’t have the idea of him so close to her.

“Why not?”

“I have my reasons.”

“What sort of reasons?”

She doesn’t say anything back. He looks to the side and rakes his hand through his hair.

“I sleep alone in that bed, Rey. I’ve never... I’ve never brought other—” he pauses, grimacing in discomfort.

It takes a moment or two before Rey realizes the misunderstanding between them. It feels like a punch in the gut.

I am such an idiot.

Of course, she’s not the only woman he’s brought to his apartment.

She brings her mug of caf to her mouth to take a sip, trying to hide the slight tremble of her lips.  His long fingers wrap around the mug, careful not to touch her in any way. He takes it from her.

“This mug isn’t for you. Kaydel made the caf and it tastes as bitter black as poison. I even spat mine out when I took a sip.” He sets the mug on the table and picks another in an insulated wrap. “I made another one for you. I figured you might want some before we get started.”

Rey feels her throat constrict. It’s a gesture of consideration she never thought he was capable of. Her eyes well with unexpected tears.

“It’s just a cup of caf,” he says softly.  “I’m not offering you the galaxy.”

“I would never want the galaxy.”

“I know that.”

He’s looking at her with brown eyes gentle and liquid, and with that stupid mug that he made for her waiting between them. Almost as if the two of them could be something special all over again. She tries to hang on to that spike of righteous anger but it dwindles into nothingness before it’s even formed.

Rey sighs.

She steps close to him and wraps her hands around the new mug and around his fingers, giving in to that little intimate moment she has been craving to have since she opened her eyes on his bed this morning. The one she has been denied because of the lonely destinies they have chosen, and the galaxy that has come between them.

“Ben, listen... About last night.”

He stares at their joined hands with an emotion swelling in the Force. She swears it feels so much like the one she had sensed yesterday when —

There’s a clearing of a throat. “Um, sir?”

Ben doesn’t seem to be aware of the person standing at the doorway.

“Sir?”

“Ben,” Rey says softly.

“Yes!” He swirls to look at his assistant.

“Excuse me sir, but we’ll be late to the Council meeting. Then there’s the Press conference in the early afternoon, and the Outer Rim ambassador has been requiring an urgent meeting. Not to mention the—”

“Yes. Yes. I’m aware! I’ll be right there.”

The poor man shuffles away at the growl, while Ben returns his attention to her. “Go on. You were about to say something.”

Rey takes the mug from him and steps back. “Never mind. It’s not important at the moment. You should go back inside. Your team needs you.”

“No. No! They can wait. Tell me.”

“I’m making some eggs for breakfast and some fresh juice, would you like some too?” she asks instead.

“Breakfast ?” He sputters. “Who cares about—?”

Amilyn Holdo’s very distinctive purple hair appears through the kitchen door and she glares daggers at Ben. “If you don’t come out in the next two seconds you are going to face the Council meeting all on your own,” she hisses. “Do you understand?”

“Fucking hells, Amilyn! Can’t a man have a moment?”

“No, he may not. Especially if he’s the Governor of Coruscant. Get your ass inside. Now!" she turns to Rey with a smile. "Hello, Rey.”

“Good morning, Amilyn.”

Holdo’s head disappears as quickly as it appeared, leaving the two of them alone again. Rey takes a sip of caf. It tastes sweet and creamy, just the way she likes it.

He juts his thumb at the door. “I have to go.”

Rey nods, clutching the mug close to her chest. His gaze lingers on her hands for a heartbeat before he drags it back up. He seems to contemplate something in his complex mind, twirling it like a newfound saber, trying to decide how to use it. Rey waits patiently.

“I wouldn’t mind having a little of what you plan on making for breakfast,” he says eventually. “Just leave some on a plate for me, if it’s alright with you.”

Rey smiles. A beaming smile that she can’t contain. “Of course.”

He stares at her for a long moment, with a strange new expression on his face before he nods and abruptly turns around to head back to his team.

.

.

.

It truly is a long day.

The Council meeting at the Government building drags all morning. Ben sits pensively at the head of the pristine, oval table with the rest of his government officials gathered around. The Minister of Defense explains the alliance with the Chiss, and the attack plan that the Republic has formulated. There are a few murmurs that go around and a few uncomfortable settling in seats, but the Governor only intervenes in his Minister’s speech when something needs to be clarified, or when the unease and tension in the room start to escalate.

It’s gloomy outside. With a sky full of leaden clouds and the promise of a thunderstorm hanging in the air. Lightning splits the heavens at the far horizon over the Manarai mountains, electrifying an already tense atmosphere within the Conference room. It’s so dark that most of the city’s lights have remained lit, making the city glitter like an upturned evening sky.   

Rey stands behind the Governor dressed in her favorite cream colors and a beige cashmere cloak, saberstaff perched on her back as always, gazing silently at the endless city. She senses a few curious glances on her now and then, and an all-around awareness of her unique presence at the Council. But the members seem to accept her.

As they seem to accept the decisions that their Governor has made.

The battleships are a bit of a pricklier subject since the cost will be enormous and the first down payment to Kuat will have to be made by Coruscant alone. Ben rubs his eyes as the Minister of Economy takes over to explain how it will be accomplished by increasing taxes and using part of the banking system’s surplus to cover the cost.

The Council doesn’t seem to be very happy about that. In the end, however, the Governor manages to gain a marginal vote of confidence from his government. Just as he had expected.

Rey smiles back lightly when Ben swivels his chair to look at her at the end of the meeting, with what seems like relief in his dark, tired eyes.

The Press conference, however, is a mess.

The grand room is packed to the brim with reporters, holonet cameras, and crew members, all sitting at the edge of their seats, waiting impatiently for the Governor’s appearance. The Minister of Communications is the one who reads out the official statement of Coruscant’s position in the upcoming war with the First Order, but the Governor is the one who steps in to answer the surge of questions.

The air is stifling and the lights are blinding. Rey struggles to keep her guard up, scanning the room and flipping through surface thoughts. If another attempt were to take place, then this would be the perfect opportunity. She even goes as far as using the Force to crunch a camera into a heap of metal because it came a little too close to the Governor for her liking. Ben barely bats an eye, but numerous gasps and mutters circle the room at her intervention.

Beads of sweat appear on Ben’s temple as the Press conference goes on, but he still continues to eloquently answer or expertly dodge the ruthless questions that the reporters throw at him. He seems miraculously composed and imposing, despite the tense atmosphere in the room.

Until one particular question pops up.

It comes from a young humanoid in unkempt clothing that raises his hand amongst a hundred others. Ben gestures at him slightly bored.

“Governor, the Jedi seems to be your new shadow. Taking into account certain rumors, is she more to you than a bodyguard? And what does your soon-to-be wife have to say about her?”

All sound seems to die out as everyone in the room stares at Ben with expectant wide eyes.

“I don’t know what rumors you speak of,” his deep voice resonates in the room. “Next question.”

“There’s a credible source stating that the Jedi and you have a past together. Could you elaborate?” Another reporter asks, and Rey notices Ben’s knuckles go white as he grasps onto the edges of the podium. She’s surprised that on such a grave and important moment as this, with the galaxy on the brink of war, people are interested in Ben’s personal life.

It’s superficial and flat-out creepy.

“I would reconsider the validity of the sources if I were you,” he snaps frigidly.

“Was she a love interest?” A third question appears out of nowhere.

Ben clenches his jaw. “No comment.”

There’s an uproar of voices as the room seems to stand up to its feet with flailing hands and a repeat of the previous questions falling from all sides.

Ben glances over his shoulder at Rey. He looks very, very agitated. He refuses to take any more questions and signals for his Minister to take over, as he steps down from the podium in a torrent of protests and flashing lights. He storms off the stage, pausing only briefly for Rey to join him on his side.  She thinks she feels his hand on the small of her back as he towers protectively over her, in his attempt to shield her from the cameras, but the sensation disappears all too quickly and Rey is not sure if she ever felt it at all.

.

.

.

“Bastards!” He seethes down the corridor of the Government building as employees and officials scurry away from his path. His long strides devour its length while a few members of his Office along with Amilyn Holdo struggle to keep up with him. Rey is on his side feeling his rage spill like burning acid in the Force. He has barely glanced at her, but there is something in the way he walks beside her that makes her feel like he’s trying to protect her from curious eyes.

Which is rather pointless.

“What did you expect?” Holdo concedes a few paces in back of him.

He halts right in the middle of the corridor, black robes swiveling ominously around him as he turns to face her. “What did you say?”

“They do have a point, you know,” she continues, ignoring his scathing glare. “Your habits were bound to catch up with you at some point.”

“My habits are none of their business,” he sneers.

People passing by cringe away from him. The few members of his Council that had followed him grasp the opportunity to discreetly disperse, Rey notices. As if they can feel the heavy storm building within their Governor match the one that is being unleashed outside.

“Oh, come on, Ben. You’re smarter than that. This is precisely the type of information they are dying to get their hands on.”

“I am the best Governor Coruscant has seen in the last thirty years. That should be enough!”

Amilyn crosses her slender arms in front of her chest, looking at him with those icy blue eyes. “You are also the youngest and most scandalous. No matter how brilliant you may be, your personal life is far more interesting to them. Did you seriously think that Rey of all people, your own personal Jedi, wouldn’t get caught up in your messes?”

He narrows his eyes at her. “Rey is nothing like the women I fuck!”

Rey blinks, feeling a bitter taste rising in her mouth.

“They don’t care! How can you be so naïve? If Rey ever meant anything to you, you should have never gotten her tangled up in this. You should have been more careful!”

They must know—

Rey suddenly realizes horrified. The people closest to him seem to know that she and Ben are far from strangers.

His nostrils flare and he walks up to Amilyn, coming eye to eye with her. “Does my mother have anything to do with what happened in there?” He warns in a dangerous voice. “Is she trying to have Rey removed from me?”

“Now you’re being paranoid.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“Ben. No. Why would she do that?”

“Then who leaked the information?”

“Who knows!”

“Then find out! You’re not all being paid here to stand as imbeciles in the middle of the corridor staring at me with gaping mouths.”

He glares thunderously at Holdo for a few moments before turning his attention to Jeff. The man stands completely still, with his gaze fixed solemnly at some statue by the wall. Rey believes he has forgotten how to breathe. The Governor stares him down, as if the galaxy spiraling into catastrophe is somehow his manager’s fault. “Fix this.” He grits at him. “And cancel the rest of my meetings for this afternoon.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Holdo calls out to his receding black robes.

He snarls over his shoulder without breaking momentum. “You wouldn’t want details of my habits now, would you Amilyn?”

Holdo presses her lips together tightly, too irritated to answer back. Rey tries to swallow the taste of bile back down. She hasn’t seen Ben this angry in weeks, and it’s a side of him that she has conveniently pushed to the corners of her mind, pretending it doesn’t exist. How wrong she has been.

“How did the reporter know about our past?” Rey asks, rooted in her spot. She sees the Governor halt a few paces away turning to look at her with an astounded expression on his face. She completely ignores him.

Amilyn Holdo sighs.

“It’s their job to dig out such things,” she sighs. “Who knows how many credits that reporter has paid to gather such information. Chances are he doesn’t know much. He probably has no idea that Ben was once in Luke’s academy.”

“Rey. Come. We need to leave.”

She senses the Governor approach her. His steps resounding in the corridor with a finality as heavy as his command. But she stares at Holdo’s stern expression trying to see all the way down to the unspoken accusation. There is a question looping in Rey’s mind since the Press Conference, making her feel very anxious.

Tarnished.

“Do they really think I’m sleeping with him?” she asks in a near whisper.

Holdo looks away.

“Rey, no. These rumors mean nothing.” Ben is the one who rushes to intervene. “They ask these sorts of questions the whole time. They spin the most incredible stories out of thin air.”

“Is this the reason why you didn’t want a woman Jedi protecting you?”

He licks his lips, struggling for an answer. Most probably a lie. “Partly.”

“Will I affect your pact with the Chiss?”

He feels uncomfortable. She can tell by the way the small muscle under his left eye twitches. “I won’t let that happen—” His eyes dart anxiously on her face and he lowers his voice. “Why are you asking all these questions?”

He senses. No. He knows she is about to say something he doesn’t want to hear.

“Maybe someone else should watch over you. I don’t want to jeopardize the work you’ve done till now.”

“What? No. No. You’re not jeopardizing anything. It’s fine. I’ll figure out what to do.”

“Ben—”

“I said no!” He shuts his eyes at the echo of his voice down the corridor. Rey knows they are making a scene. They both do.

He pulls her to a crevice nearby, away from prying eyes. Rey is afraid it will make things worse. Everything they do just makes things worse.

Lightning pierces the sky in the tall window beside them.

He comes to stand right in front of her making the rest of the world disappear. He looks at her with those dark eyes that always seem so arrogant and self-assured. They seem desperate, now. And afraid.

“Rey?” He leans in to catch her eyes. “Let’s not argue about this here. All right? What do you say? Let’s just go back to my apartment and we can talk about it there.”

His intensity is becoming overwhelming.

Rey would have never imagined the consequences of her presence next to him—but he obviously has. Way before she ever even arrived. But she understands now—his reluctance and borderline animosity when he first saw her. His distant, cold behavior goading her to turn around and leave. To get as far away from him as possible. That staying next to this man is precarious. Dangerous.

But he is standing so close now, drowning her in his vortex of emotions. He’s not letting her think straight.

He rakes his hair and curses in a low voice. Then he brings those dark eyes back to hers. They latch on to her soul, refusing to let go.

“Don’t leave me. I can’t fight this war without you—”

And that right there is all she needs to know that it is too late. Too late for them to go back to pretending that they don’t matter. That they are nothing more than childhood friends that never made it to adulthood. That they are a mistake they need to erase.

“Let’s go to the apartment. Come with me back to the apartment—”

Because they matter—and Force help them, they are no longer in control.

“Say you’ll stay—”

Force help us…

Rey nods.

He leans in and she suddenly feels like he is about to kiss her. Set those soft lips on hers and wrap his arms around her body. Pull her tight to him. He is so large and solid. The most solid thing she has ever had, and Rey can’t think how she made it all these years without him.

It all feels so vivid and clear in her mind, and so very much real, that it takes her a moment to realize that none of that has happened. That Ben is standing inches away from her, barely touching her temple with his face. He smells of musk and sweat and heartache and Rey blinks dazed into his black, silky garments.

“Thank you—” he breathes in her strands and Rey feels her whole body come to life, as if his breath has become her own. She tilts her head, seeking his warm breath. Reaching for it.

He pants into her parted lips. She can nearly taste him.

Breathe him…

“Not here,” he says.

His voice is graveled and thick and shaky around the edges. It caresses the small wisps of hair close to her ear and spreads into a longing in her chest. Rey feels his body move away but his dark gaze holds the most tender of promises.

Can she dare to hope?

He leads her out of the crevice and back to the corridor keeping a painful distance from her.

“Prepare my ship,” he orders one of the guards stationed close by. The man nods relaying the order through his comlink.

Maybe she can.

By the time they reach the exit, the heavens have split and heavy rain is pouring down. It’s impossible to see a thing. They are rushed into his shuttle, clothes getting drenched in a matter of seconds. They fall in place across from each other, wet strands clinging to their faces, and cloaks dripping on the cream leather surface of their seats. His eyes simmer as he looks at her in the grey non-light that falls through the windows. The rain pounds relentlessly on the shuttle’s haul. Anticipation is already coiling inside her.

Rey doesn’t know if they will make it back to his place without him commanding her to come to him. Without letting him make true the promise in his consuming eyes.

Somehow, he waits...

The rain is cold and it stings her face as they cross his landing bay. A thunder rolls somewhere in the distance and the ground is slippery under her boots. His arm wraps around her waist, keeping her on her feet, and his palm splays on her lower belly.

“Let me touch you tonight,” he says in her ear. It’s an order and a plea at the same time, and there is something unhinged in his voice—in the way he looks at her. “Don’t make me go through another night without touching you—”

Rey looks ahead on the verge of the sweetest panic. A shiver runs down her spine.

“Good evening, sir. My lady.” Antoine, one of the guards greets them. “I must warn you, sir,” he says, as the large doors part for them to enter.  “You have a guest tonight.”

“A guest?” Ben says over her head.  He sounds alarmed. “I’m not expecting anybody tonight.”

The lights are on as they enter and the dry warmth that greets them is very welcomed. But she feels Ben stop cold beside her. Because right in the middle of his lounge, dressed in an elegant and very expensive-looking dress stands a woman. She sets her glass of wine down on a side table and turns to smile at Ben.

Rey feels her heart stop.

“Shit,” he mutters.

Ben and Rey in front of the mirror by Cammin Liu

Chapter Text

It’s not Hannah.

That’s the only thought Rey manages to string together upon seeing the unexpected visitor—because the woman standing before them is very much human, tall, with jet, black hair, almond eyes, and an olive skin tone that she shamelessly flaunts under the expensive lace of her dress. 

“How long have you been here?” Ben asks. He looks eerily calm, as he circles the woman, robes heavy with rain that drip on the polished floor, studying her with an unreadable expression. Rey had expected a more dramatic reaction to the intruder from him. They obviously seem to be well acquainted.

“We had an appointment.” The woman follows his steps with a sparkling gaze and an awkward chuckle.

He stops a few paces away. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’ve been here for a while.”

He clenches his jaw.

The woman approaches him in a fluent gazelle-like walk that makes Rey’s skin crawl. “I wasn’t informed we’d have company,” she smiles, a practiced coy curve of lips that make her eyes glint. “It changes the arrangement.”

“There will be no arrangement. Not tonight.”

“Why waste the opportunity? I’m here. Your friend can join.”

Ben removes his drenched robes in short, vexed movements. “Caylin, take your belongings and leave. I’ll get in contact with you if I wish to find you.”

The woman pouts. “But I’ve left the night open, just as you demanded.”

Suddenly, Rey starts to understand the type of arrangement the two of them have. The exchange is too similar to the one she had witnessed between him and the High Ruler of Arkanis at that formal dinner she had to endure in Hosnian Prime. She recognizes it from the way the woman comes to stand close to Ben—way too close, studying him under her thick lashes as if he’s a meal to have.

Rey steps back feeling her insides churn with revulsion.

“Is she the Jedi everyone speaks of?” The woman slides her dark eyes in her direction, seemingly amused. “She doesn’t look like one,” she chuckles.

Ben raises his hand and a heavy elegant cape flies across the room and into his grasp. “You don’t want to aggravate a Jedi,” he warns, handing the woman the cape. “I believe your business for the night is complete. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The woman’s composure falters for a split moment at Ben’s dismissal, and she stares at Rey with that practiced smile frozen on her face. Rey stares back so coldly that she barely recognizes herself.

“Don’t be mad at me Governor.” The woman’s demeanor changes, turning into silky complacence. She closes the small distance between her and Ben, practically rubbing herself against him. “I’ll do as you command. I would be grateful, however, if next time you informed me of your change in plans. I don’t want to be an inconvenience to you. ”

The woman’s fingers walk a delicate path on one of his broad shoulders.

Rey feels like she is going to be sick—physically ill. Because she’s bearing witness to a very indecent moment taking place, very private in nature, and she can’t tear her eyes away.

“Who is this?" she turns to Ben. Her distress is obvious in her tone of voice, she knows it, but she’s powerless to do anything to hide it.

Ben is already clutching the woman’s shoulders, tearing her away from him. He seems oddly composed for such an uncomfortable situation. “She’s not someone you should concern yourself about.”

“She’s in your apartment! And you were obviously not expecting her. Of course, she's my concern!"

"Rey, not now."

His dismissiveness stings. She clenches her fists trying not to allow her feelings to slither out into the Force. They are the most erosive emotions she has ever felt and she doesn’t want him to sense them.

He turns to the woman, holding out the coat to her, impatiently. “I believe you have overstayed your welcome. Time for you to go."

She straightens her back and suddenly all the coyness slides away. “I’ve waited for you for nearly two hours. Surely, you must understand, Governor, that time is important in my line of work and—”

“Enough credits will be wired to your account to cover your losses for the night.” 

Rey shuts her eyes. She can’t look at them anymore. 

“Thank you, sir. I’ll be looking forward to providing my services to you, again.” Rey feels the woman’s eyes on her, curious and assessing. It’s so hard to hold on to apathy when every single burning particle inside her is revolting against Ben’s association with her.

“They won’t be needed anymore,” he states coldly.

A pause. The woman hesitates. “I apologize for overstepping, I truly wasn’t aware that my company would make your Jedi feel—”

“Go home to your kids, Caylin. I’ll make sure your next client is decent enough to respect your responsibilities,” he says a little softer.

"Of course, sir… As you wish." The woman quickly complies. She glances curiously at Rey one last time before she exits, heels clicking hurriedly against the floor.

The silence that follows is deafening.

After a few long moments drag by, Ben finally looks at her warily. He waits for the obvious question that has been clawing and eating at Rey from the second they stepped inside the apartment.

Her voice is quiet. Forebodingly so. "Why was she here when you know I am staying with you?”

"I had made plans with her a while back that I didn't cancel."

"How could you—?"

He closes the distance between them in two hasty strides. “Rey, I forgot.”

“That’s the stupidest excuse I have ever heard.” He remembers everything, down to the most insignificant signature on a sanitation report.

“I’ve had too many things on my mind lately! I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

How she wishes she could believe him. “So, you wouldn’t have wanted me to join your little company if she stayed?”

He stares at her, clearly at a loss of words, and that speaks a million about what his true desires are. “No, I wouldn’t!” He runs his hand through his hair. “What’s gotten into you? That is absurd.”

“No! You are the one who’s being absurd, thinking that I would comply with your twisted fantasies and your sick games.”

“I don’t believe this—” he mutters to himself, letting his hand fall heavily to his side. “Rey, just minutes ago we wanted nothing more than to spend the night in—”

“Minutes ago I would have made a mistake I would regret for the rest of my life!”

The words echo between them. Ben looks at her stunned for a heartbeat before, he rubs his face and grunts in his palm. "I am not playing games with you. Why is this so hard for you to believe?"

"Because I don't know what to believe with you anymore! You lead me on with the most heartfelt words and then you make me wonder if they mean anything at all to you. That woman—"

"That woman is not important to me. She means nothing.”

She snorts derisively and crosses her arms in front of her chest. She can't look at him. She really can’t. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Governor. It doesn’t seem like many women do."

He chuckles to himself and bites his lip in obvious frustration. Rey doesn’t see why he should feel that way. He barely cares for anybody else except for himself.

“You misunderstand the kind of opinion I hold for women—”

“Believe me I don't."

Rey is staring at a painting on the wall that she had initially thought was some abstract art that made no sense. Now, she can very clearly see the two naked bodies mingled together in a whirl of colors and shadows. 

She feels disgusted.

Ben’s expression changes, falling from affronted to thoroughly resolved and determined. He approaches slowly, with measured steps, reaching to remove the hood of her drenched cloak, but Rey takes a step back and raises her eyes to look at him under its shadow.

It’s almost funny watching the color drain from his already pale face. The only color that remains, is the pink healing flesh of his scar. Rey wonders if it would bleed again if she ran a nail down its length.

“Why don’t you go inside, take a long hot shower, and change into some dry clothes,” he suggests calmly. Placidly. “And I’ll get a kitchen droid to prepare us something to eat. We can relax and watch a series on the holonet.”

“Eat?” Rey wants to laugh. She wants to laugh her heart out. What’s the point of keeping it anyway when she’s constantly trying to piece it back together? She tilts her head at him. “You want us to eat after what just happened? You had a prostitute in your home, Ben. A prostitute!   What more am I to expect from you?”

“It’s just a job, Rey. This is what she does for a living—”

“Selling her body to satisfy the carnal instincts of men like you?”

“It’s a business transaction!”

“We’re not talking about survival here! I’m sure she could find something else to do in your prestigious Coruscant. You’re just empowering her!”

“This is what she’s chosen to do! She’s had chances to walk away in the past. Many of them have. This is what I’ve been trying to accomplish from the very beginning, to provide opportunities—but not many do because the credits are too damn good!” He huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why are we even discussing this topic? I want you to let it go. It’s upsetting  you.”

 She shakes her head. “I almost feel sorry for Hannah.” 

“Hannah knows.”

She stares blankly at him for a split second before gritting her teeth. He is watching her carefully, cautiously with those dark eyes dissecting her every emotion. She wants to tell him she has wasted her time on him. Wasted herself in the most pitiful way.

“Well, then. I guess you two deserve each other.”

"You don't mean that,” he says softly. “You know the truth.”

He takes another step toward her and Rey feels like she is suffocating in his presence. As if he is taking all that is wrong in this world and twisting it around, like the cunning politician he is, turning it into something acceptable. Forgivable.

“You still don't understand, do you? I don’t care what you do with your fiancée. If she tolerates your depraved behavior, then it doesn’t matter what I think."

There is nothing to discuss between them anymore—nothing to negotiate. He shakes his head, brushing her words aside as if they mean nothing. He looks at her, eyes as consuming as ever.

“Hannah isn’t interested in consummating the marriage. It’s part of our arrangement.”

“And that gives you the right to screw half the galaxy? Intimacy really means nothing to you, does it?"

“But it means everything to you.” He reaches for her again hesitantly but she pulls back. “Rey, I’m not trying to justify myself. I swear to you I will not bring another woman—”

"There is nothing you can say to me that can justify your behavior!"

His face blanches.

There’s a fire catching on her insides. It started with a barely there simmer that Rey had not been aware of, only for her to realize that it’s starting to grow into something beastly. And it’s an odd fire. It doesn’t warm her or fuel her with motivation. It’s an icy thing, spreading like death inside her and howling like a winter’s wind.

And it is taking control.

His eyes try to reach her when his touch is not allowed. “You’re shivering. Give me your cloak, it's soaking wet.”

“Get away from me,” she hisses back. She doesn’t remember feeling this cold before in her life. It’s an uncanny sensation, slithering around her heart and whispering in her ear. The susurrations are calling to her, summoning her to a dark place.

She takes another step away from him and those despairing eyes.

“You’re not yourself, Rey. I can tell it’s not you. I know.  Just—come to me, let me help you.”

“I am not one of your whores. You don’t get to tell me what to do!”

His brow furrows. “One of my whores?” Something snaps in his expression. “When did I make you feel like a whore?”

She grits her teeth and swivels around. No. She will not allow him to manipulate her, to turn her head around with his clever words. She hurries down his entrance hall, commanding the main doors to open wide for her to pass through. 

Her name falls from his lips merging with the thunder falling in the night. The torrent of rain greets her, cold and unforgiving and merciless. It welcomes her in its embrace.

A strong hand wraps around her arm. It swirls her around bringing her face to face with him. Ben is furious. “When did I make you feel like a whore, Rey? Answer me!” He bellows at her over the pouring rain.

She narrows her eyes wishing she could drag him down to that cold place inside her. Make him feel the barren wastelands of her heart. He’s their creator. “You did just minutes ago,” she spits at him.

“You compare yourself to Caylin? To Hannah? You compare us and what has been happening between the two of us to them?”

“No. That’s what you do!” she grits under his livid expression. “Do you make Hannah play the same games, Ben? Command her to do things she doesn’t want to do?”

“I have never forced you into anything you didn't want to do!”

Rey wants to scream. She wants to slap him across the scar and ruin him. “Liar! Yesterday night—”

“Yesterday night you wanted me to touch you! Your whole body sang for me to touch you and you felt too embarrassed to admit it to your own self!”

A lightning crackles in the sky behind him. It bathes their surroundings in electrifying light, bringing out his devastating beauty. She snarls at his pale face.

"No. You're wrong!”

“There’s no reason for you to feel embarrassed about how you feel about me…” His black hair is clinging to his face and neck, and streaks of water are falling around his cheeks. And those burning eyes hold droplets of rain on their lashes.  As if they could be tears.

As if this man could ever be capable of tears.

“You don’t know how I feel!”

As if this man could ever be capable of feeling—

"You’re jealous! Your feelings are so naked in front of me it drives me nearly mad watching you repress them. I wanted you to see them yesterday, Rey. Maker, I wanted you to see how beautiful they are—"

She grunts at him, this choked sound that struggles to be released.

But he only goes on. “Don't take away what last night meant—”

Something inside her roars.

“Stop it!” 

Her shove with the Force hits him on his chest, sending him crashing across the slippery pavement to the edge of the landing bay. She’s in the air in a split second, and straddling his body in the next with the blade of her ignited saberstaff at his throat. 

His hand pushes against her chest as if he could ever stop her from cutting him down. 

The night comes alive under the crackle of another lightning.

Ben blinks up in the stinging rain, panting under her blade. She can see the rain sizzle on the blue stream of light that reflects on his wide eyes.

“Don’t be afraid...” he dares to speak—this unethical, vile man spread on the ground beneath her, completely at her mercy, a strike away from dying. “I feel it too—”

She clenches her jaw.

The press of his hand on her chest falls away. Suddenly, long fingers thread into her hair, and the palm of his hand cups her cheek. It’s so large and strong and yet so gentle, trying to ground her, trying to pacify the holler of winds inside her heart. He lifts himself carefully on his forearm, eyes fixed solely on hers.

"Stay where you are!" she grits at him.

The beam of her saberstaff cinches a little of his skin, as Ben draws near. Her eyes sting and her throat constricts. Her hold on him loosens.

“Ben, don’t—”

“Hush now,” he says, barely a breath away,”—enough of this.”  

His lips connect with hers in a kiss that makes her heart stop. 

Her universe falls apart. It cracks right down to its core. 

His kiss is not tender. It’s not sweet. Despite the softness of his lips, it is demanding just like everything else about him. It seeks entry to her very soul as his teeth graze the flesh of her bottom lip. Ben tastes like mint and forgotten memories—of man and sleeping boy. The familiarity of his scent is overwhelming. 

It feels like a homecoming.

His fingers weave to the back of her head securing his hold on her. She’s still straddling him but he raises himself easily to a seating position, lips not leaving hers for a single breath. He pries her forgotten weapon away from her hand. The hum of it disappears and so does its blue glow. She thinks she hears it clank somewhere in the distance. But Rey can’t think of that now.

Ben is here, kissing her. Chipping at her rage. Melting the years away.  

His lips move expertly over hers, fluently, working a path that leaves her wide open for him to take—to conquer. She whimpers when his tongue delves inside, caressing her own. His embrace is merciless, overcome by emotion, awakening a crave for this man that she must have had for lifetimes.  He is fervent in his explorations, tasting her, savoring her. She can feel his hunger build and his restraint become taught—something mystical on the verge of losing control. Her chest feels like it will burst from the fluttering of wings.

Because Ben is finally here. Where he belongs, solid and real in her arms. And it feels so right it hurts—

“I want you so much—” she whispers to his lips, even as she tries to pull away. “Something inside me has always wanted you—” It tears at her how much her heart remembers. How much she has always craved for him.

He can't let go of her again. He mustn't.

“You have me, now. I'm right here... ” he mutters against her mouth, kissing every ounce of reason away. "Let me take it all away—"

She runs her hands up his chest, uncertain but eager fingers exploring the plains of his chest and the muscled curve of his shoulders. They wrap around his neck, digging possessively into his skin. He groans. 

He pulls away abruptly, with dark eyes and a heaving chest to look at her. The loss is devastating and Rey nearly sobs.  

“Don’t stop,” she begs, fisting his drenched shirt. "Please, don't—"

“I will never stop,” he pants. “I will kiss you forever—” 

It is the sweetest lie she has ever heard.

He angles her face just so, before he’s back to running his mouth down the curve of her neck in a bruising, desperate kiss that leaves her staring openly at the weeping sky. The rain falls on her face, blending in with her tears.

“Don’t ever leave me—” his deep voice pleads, reverberating on her skin. Burying itself in every dark corner of her body.

She whimpers when he bites softly at her flesh. 

Marking her—

.

.

.

He is so careful when he wipes her hair with a soft, clean towel in the dim light of his room. He pats her face and the painful mark he left on the curve of her neck. Rey knows her eyes are red and her lips are swollen. Her limbs feel so heavy she can barely move. But she stands before him as he peels away her dripping cloak and unfastens her tunic. She should feel embarrassed and shy away from his touch despite what happened the previous night in front of the mirror. But the truth is, she only feels bone-deep exhaustion, and an ache that she fears will remain inside her for the rest of her life.

Ben doesn't speak. He doesn’t say a single word, as he kneels to remove her boots and socks. Rey should remove her clothes all on her own, but she’s afraid she will collapse if he lets her go. He tugs on her leggings, removing them one leg at a time, slowly— torturously so—his own cold fingers brushing against the goosebumps of her skin. His touch is delicate, reverent as it lingers on her skin. She doesn’t know how she will live without it. 

He slides his fingertips up the length of her calves, resting them on the soft spot in the back of her knees. He parts her legs, just enough for him to set his head between her thighs.

"What are you—?" 

The stubble of his jaw scratches the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh, and then his lips are trailing a path up at a place no man has ever touched before.

"Ben, no. Please don’t—"

Cupping her mound with his mouth through the fabric of her underclothes.

Rey bucks, but he holds her in place, large hands grasping the back of her thighs. His mouth feels so hot on her it makes her head spin. Wetness seeps through the cloth and she doesn’t know if it’s her or him who is at fault. He feels him inhale her scent.

She threads her fingers in his raven hair, trying to tug him away. “Ben, you need to stop.”

He stares up at her brokenly.

"I know, Rey. I know you can’t do this," he whispers. "I just wanted a moment before I let you go."

Rey feels a sob rise to her throat as fresh tears pool in her eyes. She brings the back of her hand to wipe her face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry—"

He sets his forehead on the apex of her thighs and tightens his grasp on her for a few endless moments. She can’t be intimate with him—in any way.  It will break them beyond repair. He sees that too.

He lifts his gaze.

“Rey?” The teenage boy entreats. “No, don’t you cry, little angel. There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You were only protecting yourself.” He shows the scorched lightsaber mark on his shoulder. “See? It’s nothing. It’ll heal.” Rey knows it looks gruesome and will leave a horrible scar. Ben is in pain. She did this to him.

"Don't be sorry, my angel. Never be sorry for doing what is right by you."

She stares at him through a sheen of tears. At her own fallen angel on his knees.

"You need to change into something dry," she says. His eyes are tearing her apart.

He gets up. He’s soaking wet, droplets of water falling on his broad shoulders, and his shirt is clinging to his body. They must have been out in the rain for eons. He cups her face with cold hands and sets a kiss on her forehead. His dark eyes are blood-shot.

"I will. Once you're in bed."

"I can't be sleeping in your bed every night," she implores. 

"Just for tonight. We’ll figure something out tomorrow."

He takes her by the hand, lacing his fingers with hers. He leads her to his bed and sets her in once more. Rey doesn’t believe his scent will ever leave her body again. He covers her, stroking her wet hair and pressing his lips to hers softly. It’s a chaste kiss with just a hint of his taste and Rey savors it like it's her last breath. 

When Ben leaves the room, door hissing lightly behind him, Rey stares at it unblinking. It takes her a while to realize that new streaks of tears are running down her face and soaking his pillow.

End of part I

Chapter Text

His reflection stares back at him in pity.

Despite the freshly shaved skin and carefully groomed hair, the covering of dark circles under his eyes, and the expensive black shirt he is currently buttoning up his chest—his reflection sees who he is. It sees the wretched creature he has become. It judges him and scorns him. There’s nowhere to hide from it.

There never was.

Much less now, with the ruining he has brought to the one person that mattered the most in this traitorous universe—because he has. In his endless desires and insatiable hunger he has pushed her too far. The Darkness that always clung like a second skin to him has seeped into the most angelic creature that has ever blessed his life. It has tainted her.

He is despicable.

Not worthy of her.

The man halts the slow progress of his fingers up his shirt, and grasps the edges of the ebony furniture in front of him, back hunching over and head hanging between his shoulders.

He has allowed for this to happen—to crave for a piece of heaven, and in his heedlessness, he has reached out and snatched it with his claws.

And look at what he’s done...

He will never forgive himself.

Heartbeats pass and shaky breaths. Eventually, he lifts his head to face himself again. He decides to leave the top two buttons of his shirt unfastened. Perhaps he can get to them later. He tucks the hems of his shirt into his trousers, willing his semi-hardness at the mere thought of the woman sleeping in his bed to subside. He truly is a loathsome creature. He straps his leather belt around his waist and buckles the platinum clasp with a harsh tug.

Ben looks up. He looks at his reflection—at the refined monster in disguise.

His throat tightens.

He glances away, picking up his overcoat from an armchair, and exiting the room.

It’s barely dawn outside and he has been up for hours already, trying to find comfort in morning workout routines and forgotten Jedi forms, in the Darkness of his meditation—but she is too distracting. Too Light. She affects him, spiraling his concentration out of grasp and bringing his world inside out, for far too many exhausting days and sleepless nights.

He’s not the man he used to be. 

He can never be him again. For she has in turn tainted him with this emotion, and there is no going back.

He slips his arms through the sleeves of his tailored overcoat, the stiffness of the rich fabric reining in his rampant thoughts and helping him step into the role he plays so well. His footsteps echo down the long marble corridor of his estate, all the way to what used to be his master bedroom. It is now Rey’s room.

Everything he owns belongs to her. Even if she doesn’t know.

Ben pauses and knocks on the door lightly, but he’s not surprised when she doesn’t answer back. He opens the door carefully and steps into the dark room. The first hint of light is slipping through the tall windows overlooking the city of Coruscant that glitters far below. There is a veil of winter’s mist still lingering outside, settled comfortably on the Manarai mountaintops and surrounding his vast estate, which is perched discretely between two mountainsides. It will no doubt dissipate with the sun’s first rays.

Rey is asleep, nestled between plush pillows on his large four-poster bed that has become hers in the last few weeks. He smiles at the memory of her stubborn refusal to sleep on such a massive bed, preferring the hardness of the wooden floors instead. It took her a few rough nights but she eventually gave in—or gave up on one more of her ascetic ways. He never asked if it felt like one more betrayal to her own self.

The heels of his shoes click against the wooden floor as he approaches her for one more morning. He tugs on the crisp fabric of his trousers as he sits on her side. The soft mattress dips under his weight—but she doesn’t seem to be aware. She sleeps deeply, long tangled hair sprawled over the cotton pillows, lips slightly parted, slender chest rising and falling with every one of her breaths. Her thin tank top has bunched itself up, revealing the planes of her muscled abdomen for him today, and just a small peek of the rosy nipple of her left breast. It’s his favorite moment of the day—watching her sleep, features relaxed and peaceful. 

His little girl. His fearless Jedi. His woman just out of reach.

My reach.

Just the way she wished things to be.

“Rey?” He calls softly. Affectionately. The feel of her name rolling off his tongue being the closest part of her he will ever get to own.

She is still. His lovely girl sleeps.

He reaches for her arm, running his finger along the inside part of it, savoring the soft skin. “Rey. It’s time to wake up.”

She moans and pulls away at the touch. Like every day.

He waits for her to flutter her eyes open. This desperate creature inside him aches to be the first thing she sees every morning, the first person she hears. Perhaps a better memory of him will be planted in her mind eventually. One that she won’t associate with the pain he has made her feel. One they might both eventually share as a moment between them to be treasured.

Like the others.

He doesn’t touch her again. He never does once she’s awake—this lovely being that has taken possession of his heart.

Her eyes are red again when they open, and swollen. It must not have been a good night for her. Somewhere inside him, guilt rears its ugly head. She fixes her gaze on him, steady and penetrative in a way that only broken hearts bring forth. He tries not to get lost in it.

“Where are we going today?”

“Kuat. I’ll be inspecting the new battleships.”

She nods, looking away.

He allows himself to roam his eyes over her body once more, before lifting himself off the bed. The sheets rustle.

“I’ll be downstairs in my office,” he states impassively. He wants nothing more than to lift those covers and wrap himself around her warmth, her throbbing heart. To bury himself inside every crevice of her body. He doesn’t allow a single thought to slip out into the Force.

He makes his way towards the door.

“Ben?”

His heart stutters painfully in his chest. Hopes.

“Have you eaten anything yet?”

He halts briefly and looks over his shoulder. He is starving.

For her .

“Yes.”

“Ok. That’s good—”

For any crumbs that she will give him.

“Get ready,” he simply says and exits her room.

Chapter Text

He has forgotten his black leather gloves back in Coruscant and he’s being impossible.

It doesn’t seem like a big deal. People forget the whole time, and a pair of forgotten gloves during a visit to Kuat’s manufacturing yards is hardly considered significant in the galaxy’s grand scheme of things. But this is the Governor of Coruscant, Rey tries to remind herself. Having him aggravated this early in the day will probably cause an unimportant planet in the Outer Rim to go bankrupt, just because he refuses to sign a document without his beloved gloves.

Rey stands a few paces in back of him during the inspection of the battleships, but she can practically see the crease between his brows and the down curl of his lips.

The shipyards are endless and the Governor’s temper short.

Nothing ever seems to satisfy him these days. Not even a fleet of latest technology battleships about to be released to the Republic. She would like to pretend it has all to do with the escalating pressure of the impending war, and nothing to do with her own presence becoming an oppressive shadow—but she knows better than that by now.

The balance between them is so brittle, Rey feels like it could shatter with a sigh.

It’s the reason, she believes, he has chosen for the two of them to reside in his vast estate, where corridors upon corridors and countless rooms can be placed between them—and it has worked to a point. Rey barely gets to see him on a one to one basis anymore. There’s always a guard, or keeper, or even an annoying maintenance droid around, preventing them from having any kind of closer contact than an exchange of trivial small talk. It’s all very well staged and choreographed. A constant, vigilant dance around each other that doesn’t allow any missteps.

It’s interesting watching Ben try to keep her at arm’s length.

Except for the mornings.

In those mornings, when he comes in to wake her with the softest voice, is when he allows all his emotions to lie bear for her to relish in, to savor. To keep. Little moments of what could have been if circumstances were different. She tries not to show him what they mean to her.

Sometimes she feels like those mornings are all that will be left of them in the end.

He furls and unfurls ungloved fingers with his mood as bleak as those perpetual blacks he likes to wear. He stands out amongst their small company, with his ridiculous height and flare of expensive heavy cloak at every step he takes. Everyone is on edge around him—skittish because of a power they can’t comprehend. But Rey now recognizes what lies behind this compelling power. What has intrigued her and drawn her in, from the moment she set eyes on him after all these years. What she has become so addicted to with just a few touches.

His Darkness.

It throbs invitingly around him. She really never stood a chance.

Their party is going down glass corridors overlooking the hauls of enormous ships at the last stage of construction, and mechanical units so technologically advanced that leave Rey marveling at the sight with barely contained wonder. The screeching and harsh industrial sounds of metal, pierces the enhanced duraglass, making the conversation Ben is having with the Director of Kuat’s shipyards difficult to follow. They speak of ion torpedoes and shield leech weapons, and other armaments that Rey can barely distinguish their names and capabilities over the head-splitting noise.

She allows her mind to drift, as she often does these days, to revisit their kiss in the storm. To daydream the sensation of his large hands on her drenched body. The vulnerability in his eyes, as he set something valuable in her hands. More valuable than his own life.

Rey shuts her eyes, heartbeat accelerating painfully inside, as it does every time her thoughts stray to him—at what they could have had that night.

She misses him. Every day she misses him. Even when he stands just paces away.

Suddenly, Ben’s voice booms over the commotion, snapping her back to the harsh reality.

“Shield power will not be sacrificed for weaponry. I was specific about this feature when we ordered the battleships.”

“Sir, it’s impossible to have enough power to sustain the weapons you have demanded and hold shields at maximum capacity at the same time. No ship has ever been created—”

“No ship has gone against a Star Destroyer since the Empire, Director. What’s the point of doing so if we cannot sustain shields?”

“The XF-20 power generators that have been installed in the ships will provide enough shield stability throughout the battle. They will not succumb easily to ion torpedoes being released by the Star Destroyers. You must understand—”

Ben raises his hand to silence the Director, clearly very irritated.

“I have lifted the embargo from Cygnus Spaceworks. I’ll make sure their latest design on Urgent Need Reactor Component for shields will be sent to you to manufacture and install on the ships. I am not discussing the matter any further.”

The Director presses his lips tightly, turning an impressive color of maroon. Rey knows Kuat won’t be happy to work with Cygnus Spaceworks, but Ben has a point. The battleships have been designed to be agile and fast, but smaller in comparison to Star Destroyers. They have to be well-armed to bring such a ship down, and very well shielded to withstand its fire.

Their engine power will be enormous.

Out of nowhere, Rey feels a thought brush the outskirts of her mind. It’s fleeting and feather-light, with barely any substance of its own—but definitely a thought she has felt before. She darts her eyes around trying to pinpoint the origin without letting anyone notice her alarm, but the thought slips through her mind like running water through fingertips.

She fists her hands. 

Their party is relatively small. Kuat is represented by the Director of the planet’s shipyards, the Chief Engineer, a couple of administrative escorts and guards. Coruscant, in turn,  is represented by Ben, her, Jeff, a couple of their security men, and Nylus Dover, Coruscant’s Minister of Defense. Rey can’t understand who would possibly have this kind of—

She tilts her head.

She looks at the man standing quietly and attentively to the side. His thoughts are as calm and pleasant as always—too much now that she thinks about it, in comparison to everybody else’s constant jumble of thoughts and emotions permeating the Force. Rey knows the man doesn’t like the Governor. His distaste slips through from time to time, and she knows he can become fearful of Ben when his fury is directed immediately at him. But there’s something flat and abnormal about his mind, now that she notices. As if he is capable of keeping it still.

Controlling it.

Jeff turns to look at her, sending a pleasant smile.

How could she not have noticed this before?

Rey smiles back politely.

How could she have been fooled by his plain, harmless facade?

She wants to beat herself up for her incompetence and crawl back to Luke to tell him she has failed him, and has betrayed his trust in the worst possible way—because, of course, Rey hadn’t noticed anything till now. She had been too preoccupied with Ben.

Well... fuck.

A loud curse cuts through the background noise, and for a split moment, Rey doesn’t know if it came from her.

Ben is clutching the broken and splintered metal of a railing in his right hand. Blood is already running down his hand and dripping in red pools on the immaculate white floor.

She’s on his side in an instant.

“What did you do?” She checks his hand, as everyone crowds around nervously to see the extent of damage to the Governor. She can hear someone call for a medical droid.

Ben grunts as she removes the crushed metal from his grip. The gash is deep, cutting all the way down to small muscles and tendons. He clenches his teeth.

“Can’t I take my eyes off you for just one moment?” she huffs.

“Now you know why I insist on wearing gloves,” he grits out.

This must really hurt. Rey shakes her head. A piece of clean cloth is offered to her and she wraps it around his hand applying pressure, in order to stop the bleeding. The iron scent of blood saturates the already heavy industrial air.

“Is there a place we can take him to sit?” she asks the Director. Keeping this man in one piece is indeed a full-time job.

“There’s an office just around the corner,” he informs her, looking very concerned—probably nothing to do with Ben’s injury, and all to do with the Governor’s potential wrath being unleashed upon him.

Ben presses the cloth to his hand and follows Rey. They enter a large room made of glass and metal just like everything else on this planet. There's a woman sitting at a desk, discussing the hologram of a ship hovering over its surface with two mechanics. They all quickly scramble to their feet upon the Governor’s entry. Rey has started getting used to this universal reaction at his presence.

The commotion over his hand is almost funny, as staff and assistants surround him in a flurry of activity. Rey doesn’t believe it will be long before he snaps.

“Out!” he growls eventually. “All of you, out!”

“Governor, the medical team needs to assess the extent of damage—”

“No one touches my hand, I said! Clear the room. My Jedi is the only one who will remain.”

Rey watches warily as one by one the personnel files out of the office, and the whoosh of the shutting doors resonates behind them. He sits gloomily on the edge of the large desk pressing the cloth to his hand, a stygian figure disrupting the white and pale grey of the room. She realizes that she hasn’t been alone with him in a while. In quite a while. 

He chews on his lip and lifts the cloth to check out his wound. It bleeds still.

“Heal me,” he demands, raising his dark eyes to look at her.

It’s exactly what she feared he would ask. “Why did you kick the medical team out? It’s much better qualified to heal you than I am.”

“That’s not true. I’ve seen what you’re capable of.”

She wraps her arms around her waist and looks away. She has to look away. She keeps forgetting how compelling those dark eyes are. “I think I should call the medics back in.”

“I don’t want the medics.”

“Well, you can’t always have what you want now, can you?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“Ben—” She rubs at her forehead. Trying to reason with this man is beyond impossible at times. “You need the medics to fix your hand.”

There’s a small pause before he speaks again softer—so much softer. “That’s not what I need.”

He watches her cautiously for a few moments, waiting for her to say something more. But she doesn’t.

“You’re just as good at healing and much more pleasant to watch,” he continues. The side of his mouth curls into a little awkward smile. He’s attempting to be humorous, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s too weak to drive their sadness away. He beckons to her with his undamaged hand. “Come here. You don’t have to stand so far away from me.”

She remains rooted stubbornly in place. What he’s asking of her is not fair. 

He pushes himself off the desk, approaching her at a steady, slow pace and coming to tower over her. His black eyes and all the constellations in the galaxy bore down on her.

The way her heart beats when he looks at her is not fair.

“Rey—” And the way he says her name. As if it’s something precious. “Why are you avoiding my request?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Doing what?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“No, I don’t. You have to tell me.”

She shakes her head and looks away again. Her chest starts to throb. He doesn’t understand the significance of what he’s asking her to do. “Let me bring in the medics—”

“No.” He extends his hand, the one with the blood-stained cloth wrapped around it. It’s trembling lightly. “Heal me.”

She looks at him, wondering if he’s asking for her to heal more than just a gash on his hand. His face blurs behind a shin of tears, but she thinks his eyes look just as molten.

Only he doesn’t understand.

“I can’t.” 

The Force is not the same anymore.

“You saved me months ago from a wound that was deadly. Surely, this is nothing in comparison to—”

“I can’t do it, Ben!”

He flinches with something akin to shame in his eyes, and it only makes her feel more guilty.

It tears at her how much she has changed. How her desires stir the cool serenity that has always been the Light, muddling its waters and sullying their clearness. She rubs at her forehead feeling frustration rise in her chest.

“I don’t know how anymore. The Light side just doesn’t feel the same. It’s not as bright and clear, and my hold on it is not as strong. Believe me, I wish I could I heal you but—”

"It’s alright.” He tries to comfort her but it sounds so futile. “You probably just need to take a few deep breaths and find your balance. You’ll figure it out.”

“It’s not that simple! Not to me. The Light side is who I am, it defines me, and if I can’t access it then what’s the point of being a—?”

She grunts, pressing the heel of her palms in her eyes. This is all so wrong. So terribly and unacceptably wrong. And what drives her absolutely furious with herself is that she would do everything all over again. Every. Single.Thing.

Just to say that she held him in her arms for a moment.

Thick fabric rustles and then his large hands wrap around her wrists, tugging them carefully away from her stinging eyes. He holds them to his chest, and looks at her with his unwavering dark gaze carving a path right through her heart.

“You’re not supposed to touch me,” she states weakly. Her voice is quivering and her throat feels tight, and she knows that he is not allowed to break that rule. Not now. Not when she’s a step away from falling apart.

“I don’t care. It was a stupid rule to begin with,” he offers softly as if he has read her mind. “How can I stay away from you when you look so upset?”

She feels a tear spill down the curve of her cheek.

Ben takes that final step keeping them apart. His hands are gentle when they wrap around her body, and she finds herself pressed against his solid chest in comfort. Her face nestles in the crook of his neck, while his fingers get buried in her tightly weaved hair and his chin rests on top of her head. Ben holds her. He just holds her in his arms, naturally, as if she’s always meant to be there, lifting the tension from her body with the steady rhythm of his breathing. She wraps her own arms tightly around his broad body, inhaling his musk.

Too long…

It has been too long since she last felt his embrace.

“It’s alright,” he whispers in her hair again, kissing her strands. “I didn’t mean to pressure you. I’m so sorry—” He caresses her hair, soothingly, tenderly waiting for her to calm down. Not letting his hold on her slip. Not even a little.

When Rey lifts her head to look at him there’s something about his expression that makes her whole body ache down to the tip of her fingers. He holds her gaze for the span of a breath, before leaning in to set a kiss on her forehead. And then lower, on the tip of her nose and the salt on her cheeks. His warm breath fans on her sensitive skin, making her whole body break into light shivers. 

He marks her with his soft lips, kissing a path all the way down to the side of her mouth. He lingers there, not daring to venture any further.

And Rey can no longer resist. She tilts her head, reaching for his kiss...

He pulls away lightly to look at her, to verify that this is what she wants. She doesn’t let him wonder for long. She bunches the fabric of his cloak in her fists, tightening her grasp on him and pulling him down. She captures his lips again.

Gods, she has missed him.

His touch is reverent—but his kiss fierce. And when their mouths open for each other something between them crumples to dust.

His hold on her tightens. He molds her to his body and leans in to take what he can. Her back arches.

The Force unravels. It comes undone.

The room starts to spin, or maybe it’s the whole galaxy, because his step falters, and there’s a loud clatter of objects that come crashing down—but neither of them pays attention.

She thinks she’s being laid against a smooth surface, but it’s hard to tell. All she’s aware of, is his mouth wet and obscene against hers, of lapping tongues, and heated breaths. She’s aware of the raw strength of his muscles under thick clothes, and a delicious, heavenly friction between her thighs.

Her legs are wrapped around him and Rey doesn’t quite remember how that happened.

There’s a haze in her mind clouding her thinking, and all she knows is that this isn’t enough. She wants him to be even closer. To become part of her. To run in her very veins. 

She must be losing her mind.

She weaves her fingertips in thick, silky hair and he groans, a primal shameless sound, which reverberates inside her and makes her core throb—the one he is so eagerly grinding against, making her clench for more.

Rey wants to stay wrapped around him forever.

She whimpers against his mouth. His hands tighten possessively on her thighs in response. She’ll have bruises forming, she is certain—little violet and blue marks reminding her of their cherished transgression.

Rey wants her whole body covered with them.

She is losing her mind. 

Her very own self.

She suddenly pulls away. It’s the most painful deed she has ever achieved—tearing herself from him, writhing for a moment in his clutch, and watching his hunger morph into surprise. He steps away in alarm, and heaves painful deep breaths with flared nostrils and wild eyes.

“Did I do something wrong?” he pants out.

She scrambles to her feet. A desk. She had been laying on a desk. “No, no, you did nothing wrong.”

“Then why—?” he steps closer, boot crunching on metal and broken glass, and she mirrors him by stepping back. He looks at her completely crestfallen. “Why did you pull away? I thought you wanted us to kiss. That you were enjoying it—”

“It was a slip-up.”

“A slip-up? What ?” He frowns in complete confusion, reaching for her again.

She takes another step back. “Ben, please…”

He halts as realization shadows his features. He clenches his fists and Rey watches mortified, blood seep through the cloth once again and drip on the floor.

“You don’t want me to touch you,” he says.

“No, that’s not it.”

“Well, then what the hell is it, Rey? Because you’re not making any sense right now.”

“We got caught up in the moment,” she tries to explain, trying to find some kind of excuse to justify what just happened. “In a very powerful and intimate moment and it’s something that we shouldn’t—”

“—have done. Of course,” he chuckles bitterly. He looks to the side chewing the inside of his cheek. “Maker forbid, we do something that we both want.”

Rey presses her lips. He’s being petty and unfair and he should know better. He should know how hard it is to keep a distance between them.

“We have both agreed that it would be best if we didn’t …pursue any further what has been happening between us and—”

“No. That was what you chose,” he snaps. “I simply respected your wishes.”

“Don’t blame this on me! You know we can’t be anything more than… than friends.”

The choice of wording sounds horrible even to her own ears. And judging from the darkening expression on his face and the cold tilt of his head as he looks at her, they sound even more horrid to Ben.

“Friends?” He challenges. “You consider us as being friends ?”

“I—” Shit.

His eyes narrow. “Perhaps you should have clarified the status of our relationship a bit better, my darling friend, before you kissed the living breath out of me. A few more moments and my cock would have slipped inside you.”

Rey’s eyes widen, and for a moment, for a split second, every instinct tells her to revolt against his indecency. She once had, after all, by slapping him across the face. Only things have changed between them since then—she has seen the monster within, and knows his growl.

But his bite, especially in defense, can still very much hurt.

She closes the space between them, staring at him long and hard.

“And under different circumstances perhaps I would have enjoyed your cock, Governor, if you weren’t such an ass the whole time and making me regret all the moments that we have shared together.”

Her heart is beating frantically in her chest, and she can barely believe those words came out of her mouth—but he deserved them. Every single one.

“Don’t mess with me, little girl,” he warns.

“I’m not a little girl anymore.”

The Governor chuckles politely, but it’s not the hearty laughter that used to bubble in the boy’s chest. “I have known her since she was a little girl,” he says to a guest at their table. He’s looking at her behind the rim of his glass, bottomless eyes roaming over her body. “She has changed quite a lot, needless to say.”

Ben’s shocked expression is priceless, and a small part of her revels in it. She can almost see his exhale leave his body, evaporating into thin air—along with his restraint.

He crowds her in and grasps her chin, those dark eyes simmering dangerously. Rey finds herself electrified from the anticipation of not knowing what to expect from him—a crippling kiss or another stinging backlash.

And then a voice spills in the air like a bucket of ice.

“Sir? I presume your hand is better?”

His face pales, and the Force goes numb. They split apart faster than the speed of light. Ben tugs the collar of his shirt while Rey tries to smooth away the creases of her clothes.

It’s Nylus Dover, his Minister who is currently studying them with a very sullen face. Rey feels heat spread to her face. They must be quite a sight. A very indecent and completely inexcusable sight.

Ben collects himself rather quickly and steps in front of her as if trying to shield her. “I don’t believe I allowed anyone to enter.”

“There was a clatter. We were concerned. I took the liberty to check if you needed any help.”

“We’re fine.”

“So it seems.”

Ben takes a step in his direction. A very menacing step. “Are you mocking us?”

“This situation is hardly one to be laughed about, sir. It’s actually very grave.” The older man pauses, and all semblance of formality slips away. “Ben, you must be more careful. If someone else had walked in— "

Ben runs his good hand through his hair, his own rigid stance disappearing as well. “Yes, yes. I know—”

“Not in public. There are enough rumors spreading as it is.”

“I said I know.”

The man’s blue eyes turn to Rey as if he’s speaking only to her—imploring her. “You must not continue this behavior. The Chiss are not to be toyed with. For all we know, they might switch sides just because they have felt insulted. The wedding has already been postponed long enough.”

Rey doesn’t know where to hide.

“It won’t happen again, I promise you. It was a mistake,” she says stiffly. “Send in the medical personnel to stitch his wound in the meantime.” She feels Ben’s burning eyes but Rey doesn’t look at him. What’s done, is done. She can’t allow themselves to lose control again.

“And I’ll get you a cloak, my lady. The two of you have made quite a mess.”

Rey glances down at her clothes. The blood in his hand that has seeped through the cloth has left imprints, little telltale signs of where it has been and what it has done. She had barely been aware of half of them. She nods trying to hide the red smudge running on her left breast.

The Minister disappears behind the hissing doors, leaving the two of them to stare at each other in heavy silence. Rey looks away just as the doors of the office part again to allow the rolling of droids and a medic to stride in. They crowd around Ben immediately.

It takes him a while before he tears his heavy gaze from her.

***

They barely exchange a word on their return trip to Coruscant. He remains locked in his quarters, and she chooses to stay in the cockpit watching the endless blue swirl of hyperspace with a mind too numb to process the complicated situation they’re in.

Weeks of teetering on the edge, only for everything to go up in flames in the heat of a moment—literally.

He barely bids her goodnight when they reach his estate sometime late at night. He crosses the dimly lit foyer in long strides, not even bothering to remove his heavy cloak, and goes up the stairs swiftly. Rey watches his tall form blend in the shadows of the upper level, and the echo of his heavy steps disappear down the long, marble corridor.

She blinks tears away, under the soft lighting of a table lamp, catching her reflection in an ornate mirror. Only then does she realize how much she has been affected. The young woman with the sad eyes looking back at her seems almost a stranger.

The next morning Rey wakes on her own, feeling as drained and heavy as the moment she lay to sleep. Weak sunrays fall through the window, and the rich scents of wet earth and damp forest fill her room. It’s late. Much later than the time she’s used to waking up, and a droid is already whirring about, straightening out the room. She stares at it with a sinking heart.

Because Ben, she realizes, never came into the room to wake her.

Chapter Text

She finds him standing on the eastern veranda of his grand mansion, overlooking one of the many sharp cliffs of the Manarai mountains. It’s a quiet, secluded part of his estate, tucked under protruding rocks and surrounded by ancient pine trees, with the remainders of morning mist crystallizing on their branches. The sky is heavy overhead, hiding the tips of the mountains within its leaden clouds.

Rey wraps her thick, white cloak around her to protect her from the crisp morning air. The atmosphere is saturated with last night’s rain and there’s a chill running down her spine despite the thick fabric of her outfit and the fur lining of her vest. Winter it seems, is just around the corner.

From the canyon below, the harsh sound of a river thrashing on rocks drifts to her ears. Ben doesn’t seem to be aware of her when she comes to stand next to him, or perhaps he chooses not to acknowledge her presence. She wouldn’t be surprised.

“The Council is looking for you,” she says. “Amilyn’s message seemed to be urgent. Shouldn’t we be on our way already?”

He’s staring at the sky, brows furrowed and lips pressed tightly together, studying the tumbling grey clouds as if he could bend them to his will. It seems the forces of nature are the only ones that refuse to do so nowadays.

“You’re late,” he says without turning to look at her.

“You didn’t come to wake me.”

His lips curl lightly. “Is that a hint of accusation in your voice?”

“It’s been a habit for a while now,” she points out. One she has become too addicted to. Rey craves his first, gentle touch of the day, and the timbre of his morning voice, as if they hold the promise of a future they could almost have.

“Perhaps, it’s a habit that needs to be changed.”

Rey flinches, taken aback. “Because of what I said in Kuat?”

“Because, like you, I need to set my own boundaries.”

He says these words naturally, with a matter of fact tone of voice that makes her cringe at how wrong it sounds.His sharp profile is still aimed at the sky.

“I think you’re taking what happened there the wrong way.”

“Am I, now?”

He’s probably taunting her, trying to get a rise out of her and spice up his day—Force knows he’s good at that.  But there’s something in the way he stands, in the curve of his broad shoulders and the thickness of his voice.

No. He’s not teasing her.

“Your Minister that walked in on us was right,” she points out half-heartedly. “We need to be more careful around each other.”

“I’m tired of being careful.” He grunts at the sky, this deep, throaty sound of frustration that rumbles like a thunder.

She hates when he overdramatizes situation— acting as if it’s the end of the world.

“Well, we don’t have much of a choice,” she states, “and there’s really no need to add more meaning to what happened in that office. It was only a kiss. At a very, very wrong moment.”

“And what kind of moment would you consider as being right?”

She raises her eyebrow. “Do you really want me to answer?”

He clenches his jaw. Rey sighs, trying to gather her thoughts because she can sense his are straying down a path that will only lead to a terrible argument—and she can’t have that. Not anymore.

“I don’t want to fight with you. Things have been good between us lately, amicable. Why can’t we go on being around each other the way we were before?” He’s shaking his head and Rey hurries to continue before he intervenes. “And besides, I’m terrible at waking up early in the mornings on my own. In the academy I was always the last one to reach the training grounds and—”

His gloved hands grasp the stone railing of the veranda tightly enough to leave imprints on it. “Rey…”

“—Luke would get furious with me. It was so funny watching him roll his eyes and grumble that he'd never come across a more hopeless case than me…”

“Rey, stop.”

“No, Ben, please … Nothing needs to change between us.”

He turns to look at her with eyes that are red-rimmed and glassy. His jaw is clenched so tight she can see a muscle twitch from the effort. 

“There is no us. You have made that clear on more than one occasion.”

Rey feels righteous anger rise inside her. Her voice quivers in the cold. “What do you want from me, Ben?”

“What I want is not something you’re willing to give.”

“You’re getting married in a few weeks! There is no hope for us!” He makes everything so damn impossible . She can’t have him raise those walls again, and she can’t fall for him any further than she already has. They have to remain as they are now, caught in a limbo between desire and denial—there is no other way. “It’s hard enough trying to let go of you now, I can’t imagine what it will be like if we took us any further. Why do you want us to go through such pain?”

“Because it will be worth it!”

He curses and pushes himself off the railing, pacing the ground and raking his hand through his hair. Rey stands completely still, waiting for him to finally release his tightly coiled emotions that have been eating at him since their first kiss in the rain. 

It was inevitable. 

Little flakes have started falling from the sky, tiny white specks, barely perceptible to the naked eye. They are settling on his midnight strands and broad shoulders—little white allies trying to cover the Darkness underneath.

When he stops, at last, a strange light has ignited in his eyes. A light that can easily be stoked into a raging fire.

“I want to give us a chance.”

“What —what do you mean?” She stammers. Those eyes are making her stumble for words. 

“Hannah won’t care. You can stay in my apartment in Coruscant, and continue to be my bodyguard. No one needs to know what will be happening between us, and even if they suspect, they won’t dare to say a word. I’ll make sure of that.”

She’s already shaking her head. “Ben…”

“No, no, just listen ,” he devours the space between them in two steps. “There’s a war ahead and I’ll need your protection. It would be the perfect excuse for you to remain on my side. Don’t you see? We could be together, Rey, just think about it!”

She shakes her head again. What she wouldn’t give to wake up with him on her side, every morning for the rest of her life. But not like this… Not in hiding and in shame.

“What you’re asking of me will destroy us,” she whispers at him.

And as simple as that the fire is out, replaced by ice and stinging rejection. “It already has.”

“That’s not true… Why do you have such little faith in us?” He always finds an opening, an unguarded little place of her heart to release his attack, and he does so in the cruelest, most damaging way—this selfish, spiteful man that wants everything or nothing at all.

“Because I can’t do this anymore! Wait for you, hoping that you will one day change your mind!”

“Change my mind? What made you think that I would ever—”

She pauses when she sees him press his lips in a hard line, suddenly aware of the reasons behind his misplaced hopes. She has cultivated them herself, fed them and nourished them for so long, without even realizing that she did so.

The man looks up from his datapad, with the most adorable frown. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the teenage boy of the past from the man he has grown to become.

“You’re staring at me,” he says with a soft smile that makes her insides flutter.

Rey bites her nail as she continues to look at him, completely ignoring the holonet show she was meant to be watching. She smiles at him timidly back.

His eyes on her today are the darkest shade she has ever seen. He’s usually very careful with his emotions seeping into the Force—but not today. Today Ben has them all spread at her feet because he wants her to know. He wants her to know how much she makes him hurt.

“I’m not some lovesick fool that you can toss around in accordance to your moods,” he grits at her. “You’ve always accused me of playing games, yet you’re the one who seems to be so good at them.”

“Is that what you think of me? Is that what you believe I do with you? Toy with your feelings?”

He clenches his fists, refusing to give her any opening for rebuttal.

The snow has thickened, covering with a thin white layer the stone railing and the tips of the pine trees. Everything will be covered in white by nightfall. It will be the most beautiful sight she has seen in many, many years. Only she won’t be able to admire it tonight because the man before her is breaking her heart on this winter’s day. She can almost hear it crack in the muffled silence.

“I have spoken to Luke,” he says. “I’ve told him that you will be returning to the Academy, and that I won’t be needing anymore of his help.”

“I am not leaving you! Not now, with all that’s happening in the galaxy. There have been two attempts on your life already, and no one can protect you the way I can.”

“I don’t want your protection! And I no longer give a damn if there’s another attempt on my life. The whole galaxy can all go up in flames for all I care!”

“You have sacrificed your life and dreams for the Republic. Don’t think that you can convince me of your indifference!”

He is upon her in two steps, looming over her like Darkness itself.

“Let me get something straight with you,” he sneers. “I am no Jedi. I do not fight for what is honorable and just in this shitty galaxy. I fight for control and power. That is all that has ever mattered to me.”

“You care about this galaxy, just the way you care about me.” Rey fumes. Nothing logical comes out of his mouth when he’s angry.

“You think you know me so well, don’t you?”

“I know you well enough to see behind your masks. You’re being unreasonable and childish, allowing emotions to interfere with your judgement as if—”

“I am trying to protect myself!” He roars. “From you!”

His deep voice covers the rushing waters and resonates in the canyon. It leaves her speechless. Rey bites her lip to the point of bleeding.

“I would never hurt you—”

His dark eyes linger on her, on the broken skin of her lip. “Oh, but you have become so good at it, Rey.”

Snow has seeped into his black hair, dripping from their tips, and his lip trembles lightly from the cold—from the burden of the emotion Rey knows he carries for her. But he tries to hold his ground, as if this is some kind of battlefield and he is hemorrhaging before her feet.

She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. It’s the only thing she can do at this point. She focuses on the cold that’s prickling her skin and burning her lungs. On the silence of the sleeping mountains and the rattled breath coming from the man before her. On the emotion he is desperately trying to rein back in. To cage.

She opens her eyes to take him in.

Their mingled breaths mist in front of them, and his cheeks and tip of his nose are flushed. It’s so rare and beautiful, this color that livens up his face, that she wants nothing more than to set her lips on it and drink it in. She’s so tempted to agree to what he’s proposing. To wake up every morning with his body wrapped around her and his soft breath caressing her ear.

Would it be so bad?

She reaches for a snowflake that has settled on the high bone of his cheek.

To give in to what they both want and shrug the world away?

But he grasps her wrist, black leather digging into her white fur, before she’s able to brush the snowflake away.

“No. You don’t get to touch me.”

His clutch is strong, a painful reminder of their reality.

“Ben, you’re hurting me.”

She tries to tug her hand free from a grip that’s like an iron vice—but he doesn’t let go. She knows that when the time comes neither of them will be able to let go.

He stares at her long and hard, but instead of releasing her like she thought he would, he tugs her closer. Her heart stops when he brings the inside of her wrist up to his lips. It’s searing hot, the kiss he sets on the delicate skin showing under the fur lining of her sleeve. His clutch softens and his eyes fall shut, and an aching warmth seeps into her shivering body.

“I want you—” He brings her hand to cradle his cheek. “I want you in all the ways you never let me have you. Please, don’t deny me anymore...”

“Ah, but you deny me yet again—” The Governor's eyes are playful when he looks over his shoulder at her. “My Jedi is very adamant on rejecting any kind of offer for... simple pleasures,” he complains to an ambassador walking on his side. “I never considered a simple stroll in the Government District of Coruscant to be of such great danger to my life,” he chuckles.

Rey rolls her eyes at his teasing .

But there is nothing playful about this moment. Not anymore.

“You know that we can’t—” she whispers.

He immediately releases her hand, and steps back averting his eyes. His heel crunches on the thin layer of snow covering the stone ground. It sounds dreadfully close to shards of glass. Rey waits with her heart lodged in her throat for what he will say next. 

He abruptly turns around to head inside, black cloak sweeping the snow white ground and leaving a dark trail behind him.

She calls to him before she can stop herself.

“Ben—Wait!”

He halts a few paces away, turning his head over his shoulder, in his usual silent invitation. He waits. Only Rey doesn’t say what has been screaming inside her for months. She doesn’t say a single word.

“The marriage vows to Hannah will take place ten days from now at the Old Jedi Temple.” His announcement is void of emotion. “Luke has promised to bring in a Jedi to replace you on that day. You will be free to leave any time you wish after the ceremony.” He resumes his walk without sending her another glance. “Don’t leave my side today,” he commands, before going through the tall balcony doors.

Rey stands in the snowfall, staring at his retreating back too numb to lift a single finger. Snowflakes brush against her skin almost in heavenly comfort, but Rey barely senses them.

The world is tipping over. She is gliding down its surface along with anything else she has ever considered solid up until now.

And Ben will no longer be at its end to catch her.

Chapter Text

They barely get off his black shuttle when the Secretary of Council approaches them hastily on the landing bay, his robes flailing in the crisp winter wind and his round belly bouncing in step. Ben next to her halts expectedly, and leans over to hear what the shorter man has to say.

What little color Ben has, drains from his face.

"What's wrong?"  She asks when she sees him clenching his jaw. The wind has really picked up, whipping at their cloaks and ruffling Ben's hair. Heavy clouds have rolled in, taking over the city. 

"Intel is stating that the weapon on Starkiller Base is aimed at the Hosnian sector. It started powering up this morning," he states flatly, but Rey can sense there’s more troubling him in the Force. "Come. The infiltration team has already begun its work. I hope it’ll be enough."

The Government building is in turmoil when they enter, and reports are already handed to him the moment he walks into the Council Conference room. A few of the members are already there, while holonet connections to Hosnian Prime and other major worlds are already being established. 

Ben takes his seat in front of a holoprojection of the Republic’s High Chancellor, who’s currently in the Hosnian sector.  He loosens the buttons of his collar—which Rey considers a worrisome sign on its own.

"A mug of caf," he says to Kaydel before he begins. "Black."

"Let's hope this isn't the last time we speak, Governor," the older man states with a sad smile.

"I hope not either, sir. You have promised me a week’s vacation at your personal resort in Hosnian Prime. I would hate to miss the opportunity."

The old man chuckles with a shake of his head. "Have the X-wings been dispatched?"

"Yes. And the bombs are being set by the infiltration team as we speak. We had a recent message from the Millenium Falcon stating that it’s bringing in a new shipment of them, just to be on the … safe side."

"Isn't your father getting a bit old for this?"

Ben snorts. "Try telling him that. He's the one setting the new bombs on the weapon’s oscillator."

Rey studies Ben out of the corner of her eye. The dark circles under his eyes, the nervous fidgeting as opposed to his usually very composed gestures, the restlessness and plain flat-out fear that emanate from him.

His father ...He must be concerned about his father.

“My estate is beautiful in the spring,” the older man says softly. “You would have enjoyed it very much.”

“It’s not over yet, sir.”

The man’s grey eyes crinkle. “Of course, it’s not my boy…. It’s only the beginning. We can only hope for the best.”

There’s a pause while the two men, the High Chancellor with his seasoned white hair and neatly trimmed beard, and the young Governor of Coruscant in his dark ensemble and wild black mane, look at each other solemnly for a few moments. As if there’s a silent understanding.

There’s a bobbing of Ben’s throat. "May the Force be with you, sir."

"Thank you, Governor. Give my regards to your mother.”

The holoprojection of the High Chancellor shuts off, for Ben to turn his attention elsewhere. Whatever emotions of fondness and respect had leaked into the Force are quickly clamped down.

Time passes. 

People come and go within the Council. Ben converses tirelessly with his peers through the holoprojector, or paces the grand room coming to stand every now and then in front of the large wall to wall windows that overlook the city of Coruscant. The weather is catching up, and snow has begun to fall on the ecumenopolis. But nothing slows the city’s busy life as shuttles continue to zoom back and forth in the airlanes, and people fill the pedestrian bridges, despite the promise of a blizzard that will soon be upon them.

In every sense.

The Republic fleet stationed in the Hosnian sector is on red alert, preparing for an immediate jump to hyperspace. Only a limited number of ships will be making it out since the hyperlanes will not be able to withstand such a mass influx of warships. The difficult decision as to which ones will be the ones to make it out—amongst other decisions—has fallen on Ben and a handful of Core leaders.

There’s a strenuous effort taking place to evacuate civilians from the Hosnian sector. It is, of course, disheartening.

Ben has removed his stifling robes and is on his third cup of caf when Rey decides that there’s nothing for her to do here. The building’s security has been enhanced by bringing in a squad of Coruscant’s Security Force, heavily armored police officers normally tasked to patrol the dingier, crime-infested Lower levels, while numerous police Force shuttles are guarding the airlanes. It’s as safe as it can get, considering the circumstances.

It’s also the opportunity Rey has been looking for.

“Have you seen Jeff anywhere?” she asks Mike, one of Ben’s most trusted bodyguards, currently standing at the entrance of the room with his hands clasped behind his back.

He shakes his head negatively. Rey’s not surprised. She hasn’t seen him or sensed him either.

“He sent in his resignation this morning. Kaydel said something about him being fed up with the Governor’s behavior,” he answers back.

“How convenient,” she mumbles.

“What did you say?”

“Never mind…” No need to explain the coincidence of Jeff’s sudden departure from Ben’s staff, and Starkiller Base powering up on the same day. “I’ll be gone for a little while. Keep an eye on the Governor for me.”

“What? No.” His eyes widen comically. “You’re not supposed to leave his side.”

“I’ll only be gone for a couple of hours the most. He probably won’t even notice. And even if he does, just tell him I went out to grab a bite to eat.” Rey shrugs. He’ll believe that.

“Miss Rey, if he finds out I let you go, he’ll have my liver for lunch! Tell me what you have in mind, and I’ll have a team assembled to do it for you.”

She looks up at the beastly looking man. He can be such a sweetheart at times. “Mike, I’m the only one who can do this. I’ll be back soon. Don’t let anyone I haven’t already cleared enter the Conference room until I’m back, alright?”

She watches him as he nods, completely crestfallen. He knows that he can’t stop her. Rey pats him reassuringly on his thick shoulder and slips out of the room.

She weaves herself through the rushing personnel and down the main entrance of the Government building, that’s by now swarmed with reporters and holonet coverage. She keeps her head low and covered with her cloak’s hood, easily blending in with the crowd that comes and goes down the main steps, nudging curious glances away.

But Rey feels aggravated with herself. She has put the pieces together too late.

It’s not long before she lands the shuttle she has conveniently borrowed on a small landing bay that belongs to a run-down apartment building close to the Lower Levels. The sleek, shiny architecture is not prominent in this part of the city, and the airlanes are crowded with shuttles that seem to be dated as far back as the Old Republic. Rey frowns, making a mental note to discuss the city’s less fortunate areas with Ben at some point, and see if he has any plans on improving the living conditions.

A humanoid, in the middle of a suspicious transaction with a Bothan, glances at her as Rey makes her way through the rusty doors, but she nudges the attention away with the Force once more. Soon enough she’s standing outside Jeff’s door, pressing on the ringing mechanism. After the second ring resounds and Jeff doesn’t come to the door, she decides to override it.

When she sets foot inside, all her suspicions are verified. Jeff is in the process of fleeing.

He’s aiming a blaster at her, hand trembling from the tension. Rey stills.

“You can’t stop me,” he says.

She believes otherwise since he’s not Force-sensitive himself, just very well trained in dealing with them. “Who are you giving information to?”

She takes a step in his direction, and he takes one step back. “Stop where you are!”

He looks horrible. Sleepless and unkempt in a way that makes her barely recognize him. She wants to feel sorry for him—only she doesn’t. These are restless times, spiraling out of everyone’s control to the point where yesterday’s friend is today’s mortal enemy.

“Who is it, Jeff?” she says, trying to stifle the urge to rip out the information she needs from his mind. She’s determined not to leave empty-handed and there’s nothing he can do to stop her. “Who’s betraying the Republic?” 

— Or the Governor. It makes no difference.

“If I tell you I don’t get to live another day!”

“If you tell me, I’ll make sure you’re guarded by the Jedi.”

He laughs coldly, something about his desperation approaching the realms of madness. He tightens his grip on the weapon pointed at her. “No one can protect me from the First Order, Rey. Not even the Jedi. Don’t fool yourself.”

She unhooks her saberstaff and stretches her other hand to him in an invite. “Hand me your weapon,” she says calmly, using the Force to enhance her compulsion—but his walls are up, and her compulsion disperses into thin air. She’ll have to be more aggressive with him—and Rey hates the prospect.

“Your tricks don’t work on me.” He licks his lip. “How do you think I made it this far next to him, huh? Although I have to admit I was surprised to slip under your detection. Maybe your training was... inadequate,” he laughs nervously before lowering his voice, “or maybe you were just too besotted by the Governor. What do you think?”

Rey thinks it’s time to end this farce. Her fingers curl, demanding his weapon.

“I know what you’re doing. I’m warning you!” He’s still aiming at her head, and she really doesn’t want him to take that shot.

“I need to know the information you’ve given out,” she states firmly, holding on to his gaze. He’s scared, and his eyes dart all around the room. “Put your weapon down and let’s talk calmly. You know I can take whatever I want.”

“I’m not giving you anything!” He grinds through clenched teeth.

The blaster goes off.

The laser beam is suspended in midair with a quick gesture from Rey, followed by his blaster being ripped from his grasp. She’s done playing nice. Jeff has no time to react, as she digs fingers in his thoughts, clawing for the information she needs before he can push her out of his powerful mind.

Before she questions her ways—