[ Coming to full height as he stands, Kylo Ren stretches upward and blots out the light of the fires behind him, a towering shadow that loomed before her. The space between them grows tense, heavy with their closeness. Though her eyes do not betray her, fear grips her a moment, sure that he will instead take it upon himself to teach her in doubtlessly the same way that the Supreme Leader had taught him—through pain. But Rey, who has spent so much of her life with nothing, does not fear loss or pain. They are old friends.
She reminds herself of that in the moment when her recollection of his power and anger threatens her nerve, and steels her heart to what she hopes she can do. Only once had she seen the trick performed, suffered its effects herself, but she had never seen anyone force their will on someone like she had JB-007 either. The capability lay within her own spirit, dependent on its strength, and emboldened by her surety.
Her eyes shut, forcing Ren's cloying darkness from her mind and replacing it with meditative serenity that helps her feel currents in the air like sparks racing across her skin, power humming in the atmosphere that waits to be employed. The fire, far in the valley, heats the air and brings it in great billowing puffs up through them, carrying with it the stale and smoky scent of ash. It finds its place scattered among the molecules of the atmosphere just as she finds her place scattered among the stars.
Kylo Ren would only give her one attempt, and stakes like these mandated success.
Unremarkable, ruddy brown eyes open to fix on him, anchored and firm in her task, and she reaches one slight hand, fingers gently curved, to hover alongside his temple. For a moment she hesitates to close the gap—contact, she's sure, is not needed, but she could not say with any confidence whether it would help matters or not, and she needs all the help she can get.
She swallows the lump in her throat and feels her way into the cavernous web of his mind, but not for information or any true dive. Instead, she skims the surface, a web of interconnected energy matrices as complex as any star map, searching for something in particular, fumbling her way until—
Jarring realization crashes in all at once. Frantic earnest bleeds into him. Sloppy, hurried, she tries to dim his mind and drag him into the murky waters of unconsciousness as he had once done to her.
There is light in him yet, a dim flicker, ready to be snuffed out by Snoke, no doubt easily done if he snaps her out of his mind too quickly and severs the connection between them with the sharp point of betrayal, but one that could be kindled to something more if he could only be ripped away from the darkness. For his sake. For the galaxy's. They use the word cold to describe this kind of brutish pragmatism, but Rey's was learned in the heat of the desert, and it serves her well.
Deception paves the road to the Dark Side, but Rey uses it in the hopes of bringing him to those who could help break the hold Snoke has over him, who could eliminate the malaise that drags him down like stubborn, invasive tar. And she uses it too with hope that he will forgive her for it then, for she knows if she let him walk away, she would not forgive herself. Finn's lives and the lives of the whole Resistance lay heavy on her shoulders. He will understand, she assures herself. But only if it works. ]
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She reminds herself of that in the moment when her recollection of his power and anger threatens her nerve, and steels her heart to what she hopes she can do. Only once had she seen the trick performed, suffered its effects herself, but she had never seen anyone force their will on someone like she had JB-007 either. The capability lay within her own spirit, dependent on its strength, and emboldened by her surety.
Her eyes shut, forcing Ren's cloying darkness from her mind and replacing it with meditative serenity that helps her feel currents in the air like sparks racing across her skin, power humming in the atmosphere that waits to be employed. The fire, far in the valley, heats the air and brings it in great billowing puffs up through them, carrying with it the stale and smoky scent of ash. It finds its place scattered among the molecules of the atmosphere just as she finds her place scattered among the stars.
Kylo Ren would only give her one attempt, and stakes like these mandated success.
Unremarkable, ruddy brown eyes open to fix on him, anchored and firm in her task, and she reaches one slight hand, fingers gently curved, to hover alongside his temple. For a moment she hesitates to close the gap—contact, she's sure, is not needed, but she could not say with any confidence whether it would help matters or not, and she needs all the help she can get.
She swallows the lump in her throat and feels her way into the cavernous web of his mind, but not for information or any true dive. Instead, she skims the surface, a web of interconnected energy matrices as complex as any star map, searching for something in particular, fumbling her way until—
Jarring realization crashes in all at once. Frantic earnest bleeds into him. Sloppy, hurried, she tries to dim his mind and drag him into the murky waters of unconsciousness as he had once done to her.
There is light in him yet, a dim flicker, ready to be snuffed out by Snoke, no doubt easily done if he snaps her out of his mind too quickly and severs the connection between them with the sharp point of betrayal, but one that could be kindled to something more if he could only be ripped away from the darkness. For his sake. For the galaxy's. They use the word cold to describe this kind of brutish pragmatism, but Rey's was learned in the heat of the desert, and it serves her well.
Deception paves the road to the Dark Side, but Rey uses it in the hopes of bringing him to those who could help break the hold Snoke has over him, who could eliminate the malaise that drags him down like stubborn, invasive tar. And she uses it too with hope that he will forgive her for it then, for she knows if she let him walk away, she would not forgive herself. Finn's lives and the lives of the whole Resistance lay heavy on her shoulders. He will understand, she assures herself. But only if it works. ]