[ Leaving the desert came with a fight, tooth and nail, against her very nature and every hope she'd clutched to her chest for more than a decade, the only thing she had to warm her at night and promise her that there was an end in sight. These and more, she had to give up, with no guarantee that the alternative would be better, and he spits it back in her face knowing full and well what he claims. The insult she takes is not indignation, not precisely, but it is comparable enough that there is a touch of it in the anger that flashes through her, oil in a pan that makes Rey want to claw at him and wrestle him to the ground and solve this with sweat and bruises and muscle fatigue, but that will not settle any matter so philosophical as this. Too bad, really.
But because she can rationally acknowledge that he knows better, Rey manages to rein in her temper and quiet the storm that threatens the teetering, fragile alliance that they have built out of paper and popsicle sticks. It's a wonder that the flames on Aurren's body have not ignited it already. It helps that, moments later, he makes acknowledgment that their difficulty in this life, in the path that stretches before them, is a mutual one, rife with grief and loss and loneliness, and it is only his childish bitterness that prompts him to try to undercut her experience with it, her struggle.
That does not preclude her desire to similarly undermine him, to hurt him as he has hurt her, but like many other impulses she shares with Kylo Ren, Rey demonstrates better restraint, tightening her grip on the helmet that has found its way into her hands rather than take it out on the man before her. ]
You make a lot of assumptions. [ Though she imagines the other leaders of the Resistance will favor the prospect, Rey has a hard time imagining Luke or Leia considering it with any seriousness—Luke out of doubt that such an environment could hold him for long, and Leia out of sentimentality. But they would be hard-pressed to make a good case, to prevent a trial, and to that end, even Rey must admit the high likelihood of an eventual execution.
She decides then that she won't let it happen, not only because Kylo Ren—for better or worse—is essential to her as he is now, because there is no telling what would become of either of them if one were to die with the bond as it stands, but also because she cannot stomach the mere imagining of Leia's grief, let alone the reality of it. They had already shared tears with one another over Han. She refuses to do it again, refuses to let the Resistance take her family from her all over again when it's so clear that it played a role in the division the first time. ]
We should stay here and keep the Falcon's systems off until you heal. [ She points to his leg, both avoiding the subject further and opting to solve the only problem that she can solve right now: time. ] It will keep us off radar, keep us from drawing further attention. [ If he needs to figure it out, better that he do it away from Organa and Skywalker—Leia and Luke, her mind corrects as if scolding it, startled by the smooth adoption of his monikers for them. It will also afford them the chance to make sure that Ji is really gone. ]
Concordia's mostly harmless, right? Barely inhabited since the mine shut down. I doubt we'll run into anymore trouble.
no subject
But because she can rationally acknowledge that he knows better, Rey manages to rein in her temper and quiet the storm that threatens the teetering, fragile alliance that they have built out of paper and popsicle sticks. It's a wonder that the flames on Aurren's body have not ignited it already. It helps that, moments later, he makes acknowledgment that their difficulty in this life, in the path that stretches before them, is a mutual one, rife with grief and loss and loneliness, and it is only his childish bitterness that prompts him to try to undercut her experience with it, her struggle.
That does not preclude her desire to similarly undermine him, to hurt him as he has hurt her, but like many other impulses she shares with Kylo Ren, Rey demonstrates better restraint, tightening her grip on the helmet that has found its way into her hands rather than take it out on the man before her. ]
You make a lot of assumptions. [ Though she imagines the other leaders of the Resistance will favor the prospect, Rey has a hard time imagining Luke or Leia considering it with any seriousness—Luke out of doubt that such an environment could hold him for long, and Leia out of sentimentality. But they would be hard-pressed to make a good case, to prevent a trial, and to that end, even Rey must admit the high likelihood of an eventual execution.
She decides then that she won't let it happen, not only because Kylo Ren—for better or worse—is essential to her as he is now, because there is no telling what would become of either of them if one were to die with the bond as it stands, but also because she cannot stomach the mere imagining of Leia's grief, let alone the reality of it. They had already shared tears with one another over Han. She refuses to do it again, refuses to let the Resistance take her family from her all over again when it's so clear that it played a role in the division the first time. ]
We should stay here and keep the Falcon's systems off until you heal. [ She points to his leg, both avoiding the subject further and opting to solve the only problem that she can solve right now: time. ] It will keep us off radar, keep us from drawing further attention. [ If he needs to figure it out, better that he do it away from Organa and Skywalker—Leia and Luke, her mind corrects as if scolding it, startled by the smooth adoption of his monikers for them. It will also afford them the chance to make sure that Ji is really gone. ]
Concordia's mostly harmless, right? Barely inhabited since the mine shut down. I doubt we'll run into anymore trouble.