[ Neither of them will fully emerge from this war without blood on their hands. Rey knows that as well as she knows violence’s snapping jaws at the back of her mind trying to lash out and take a bite of her enemies, the same urge that Kylo Ren had given into down in the mine. It was a warped mirror, showing her the snarling, bared teeth of a predator from the other side, watching through a lens what she had looked like when she tried to fell him on Starkiller, what she feels every time they fight.
For the first time, it occurs to her that they might never clash in that way again, and the wistful sorrow that comes with losing something significant joins the relief of commiseration that she had already felt in their bond. That realization grows strong with the implicit understanding of his intent, flaring to full awareness now—he thought he could protect her (the both of them, yes, but her) and brackish disgust turns Rey’s stomach as it floods her mouth, thinking that he’d done what he did in some misguided defense of her.
Still, his accusations gouge the sails of her argument in deep slashes until her bluster is nothing but wounds in white canvas flapping lamely in the insignificant wind, but she won’t allow her discontent to be dismissed entirely while she can still feel the heat of Ji’s throat under her own hand, as if she had been the one to squeeze and squeeze, as if she had not stopped until the life drained out of her. Rey’s horror is as much a result of the transference as it is a result of her understanding of what had allowed him to indulge and celebrate in the unforgiving brutality of the act; it is gristle in her teeth that she cannot mull over in a satisfactory, easy way, resisting simple interpretation.
There’s nothing else to lash out at, she realizes sadly when she looks down to find her hands are not only empty of Ji’s throat, but of anything at all, and it leaves her with a white dwarf of agitation humming inside of her with no way to vibrate its way out of her skin and find peace. She paces away, raising her arm to wipe sweat away from her face, and she pretends not to notice the frustrated tears that come away from her contorted expression, tight with restraint, with the rest of the salt. The exhale that spills past her lips is not at peace, but seething, steam billowing out of an active furnace, and though she lifts her gaze to the darkened sky to find comfort, she finds nothing but emptiness. ]
No. Not blameless. [ She hisses the words as a defense, turning back towards him with the darkened scowl of a woman who knew precisely what she blamed him for: Han’s name goes unspoken between them not because she won’t dare utter it, but because she knows she doesn’t need to. He is not a piece of leverage to heft around between them. The loss is greater than that.
She uses the reminder now to block his efforts in painting himself the victim of expectations now, deliberately or otherwise, for she will not allow him to lob arms at his mother, the only mother she’s ever known, because she wants to recover what Kylo Ren has cost her: a family. Not only Ben Solo, but Han as well. She will not allow him to vilify Leia for that. Her tone turns scolding and impatient as she lashes back at him, voice raising while she hoists the lights she’d brought out, flicking them on and breaking open the bulbs so they’ll catch on the fuel-soaked scraps of fabric and consume Aurren’s body. Flames roar to life and try to drown out her speech as she drops the broken light, filament cutting her palms in carelessness. ] Stop hiding behind other people! You can’t justify what you do by claiming it was in defense of me when I didn’t want it, and you can’t disavow Snoke’s influence and begrudge your mother hers in the same breath!
[ So what does she want? Like it or not, he has narrowed down the real problem, that she got something she didn’t expect in this, but not in such a way that it’s different than anticipated, for that implies she had some fully manifested expectation. No, it’s more than she wanted, and not in a way worth celebrating. Looking at Kylo Ren and the life he offered her when he’d attempted to lure her to the dark, Rey saw the potential for the intimacy of understanding and the comfort of camaraderie—without him, she might never stop being alone.
But he understands more than the nature of her abilities, than the experiences implicit in them; he understands the darkness within her, the vengeful, spitting rage and the joy of the hunt and the bloom of satisfaction that comes with wielding power that you’ve never had before. She hates seeing the worst of herself in him, hates it because like any fire, she knows that it is catching and it could burn her up just as soon as warm her. She is afraid—paralyzed, really. She thought he might help her find a way that is their own—not Luke’s, not Snoke’s, but she realizes suddenly and sharply the unfairness of this projection of hers. Freeing him for her own benefit makes her no better than Snoke himself, let alone than Kylo Ren. So she grits her teeth, forces it away, and instead turns it back around on him, opening herself to reality rather than her blind hopes, rather than her needs. ]
It isn’t about what we expect; it’s about what you want. Did you want to be free of Snoke so you could escape the darkness that he has drowned you in, to find your own path, or did you simply want the power he offered you without the leash?
no subject
For the first time, it occurs to her that they might never clash in that way again, and the wistful sorrow that comes with losing something significant joins the relief of commiseration that she had already felt in their bond. That realization grows strong with the implicit understanding of his intent, flaring to full awareness now—he thought he could protect her (the both of them, yes, but her) and brackish disgust turns Rey’s stomach as it floods her mouth, thinking that he’d done what he did in some misguided defense of her.
Still, his accusations gouge the sails of her argument in deep slashes until her bluster is nothing but wounds in white canvas flapping lamely in the insignificant wind, but she won’t allow her discontent to be dismissed entirely while she can still feel the heat of Ji’s throat under her own hand, as if she had been the one to squeeze and squeeze, as if she had not stopped until the life drained out of her. Rey’s horror is as much a result of the transference as it is a result of her understanding of what had allowed him to indulge and celebrate in the unforgiving brutality of the act; it is gristle in her teeth that she cannot mull over in a satisfactory, easy way, resisting simple interpretation.
There’s nothing else to lash out at, she realizes sadly when she looks down to find her hands are not only empty of Ji’s throat, but of anything at all, and it leaves her with a white dwarf of agitation humming inside of her with no way to vibrate its way out of her skin and find peace. She paces away, raising her arm to wipe sweat away from her face, and she pretends not to notice the frustrated tears that come away from her contorted expression, tight with restraint, with the rest of the salt. The exhale that spills past her lips is not at peace, but seething, steam billowing out of an active furnace, and though she lifts her gaze to the darkened sky to find comfort, she finds nothing but emptiness. ]
No. Not blameless. [ She hisses the words as a defense, turning back towards him with the darkened scowl of a woman who knew precisely what she blamed him for: Han’s name goes unspoken between them not because she won’t dare utter it, but because she knows she doesn’t need to. He is not a piece of leverage to heft around between them. The loss is greater than that.
She uses the reminder now to block his efforts in painting himself the victim of expectations now, deliberately or otherwise, for she will not allow him to lob arms at his mother, the only mother she’s ever known, because she wants to recover what Kylo Ren has cost her: a family. Not only Ben Solo, but Han as well. She will not allow him to vilify Leia for that. Her tone turns scolding and impatient as she lashes back at him, voice raising while she hoists the lights she’d brought out, flicking them on and breaking open the bulbs so they’ll catch on the fuel-soaked scraps of fabric and consume Aurren’s body. Flames roar to life and try to drown out her speech as she drops the broken light, filament cutting her palms in carelessness. ] Stop hiding behind other people! You can’t justify what you do by claiming it was in defense of me when I didn’t want it, and you can’t disavow Snoke’s influence and begrudge your mother hers in the same breath!
[ So what does she want? Like it or not, he has narrowed down the real problem, that she got something she didn’t expect in this, but not in such a way that it’s different than anticipated, for that implies she had some fully manifested expectation. No, it’s more than she wanted, and not in a way worth celebrating. Looking at Kylo Ren and the life he offered her when he’d attempted to lure her to the dark, Rey saw the potential for the intimacy of understanding and the comfort of camaraderie—without him, she might never stop being alone.
But he understands more than the nature of her abilities, than the experiences implicit in them; he understands the darkness within her, the vengeful, spitting rage and the joy of the hunt and the bloom of satisfaction that comes with wielding power that you’ve never had before. She hates seeing the worst of herself in him, hates it because like any fire, she knows that it is catching and it could burn her up just as soon as warm her. She is afraid—paralyzed, really. She thought he might help her find a way that is their own—not Luke’s, not Snoke’s, but she realizes suddenly and sharply the unfairness of this projection of hers. Freeing him for her own benefit makes her no better than Snoke himself, let alone than Kylo Ren. So she grits her teeth, forces it away, and instead turns it back around on him, opening herself to reality rather than her blind hopes, rather than her needs. ]
It isn’t about what we expect; it’s about what you want. Did you want to be free of Snoke so you could escape the darkness that he has drowned you in, to find your own path, or did you simply want the power he offered you without the leash?