[ His slings and arrows can only sting if she considers them unwelcome and permits their injury, but this particular barb, well-placed as it is, strikes against a truth that she has long acknowledged. Where Kylo Ren's strength comes from training and experience, Rey lacks the same: her talents with the Force are intrinsic, easily picked up due to her lifestyle and history and her latent ability, not hard-fought skill and tested mettle.
In stark contrast to Ren's feral pacing, Rey is a redwood, boots firmly rooted to the ground as if they've been fixed there for centuries, allowing the blows to wash over her to no effect. It does not hurt her to accept this truth, and with the stakes what they are, perhaps even considers it wise to acknowledge out of the gate. ]
If we were to succeed, [ that disclaimer really says it all, hypothetical and wary, devoid of guarantees. The Force requires the commitment of certainty, but Rey knows her limits and accounts for them. ] It would be a first. Not just for me, but for any that Luke is aware of.
[ She does not qualify that with defenses about the records of the Order lost in the Galactic Civil War, decimated by the very genocidal eradication executed by the Empire in order to purge any trace of the Jedi from the collective memory of the galaxy as anything but a myth. Surely, it has been done before. Surely, some Sith was brought back from his mentor, those connections weakened and that influence purged as any Force ability could be.
Similarly, she does not bother educating him on what he likely already knows, that a cleanse can unravel Force abilities that have been exerted on the mind, but have not been used on a scale such as she describes. What they undergo is not a single psychic surgery, but hundreds of them, remodeling the twisted landscape left behind by Snoke's influence. ]
I won't do it unless you allow me. [ The stubborness in her voice is of a moral sort, and with it comes a relenting flicker in her brow that softens her gaze. The same strict adherence to what she believes is justifiable that had her carry him over miles of burning Corellian landscape to this base now stops her from forcing such a change upon him. She would be no better than Snoke if she were to bend him to her will simply because she may potentially have the power to do it (she can't really be sure, can she?). Worse, she knows the weight of what she asks: if they attempt this, there is no telling how different he could be when they resurface from the mind walk. ] And I don't think I can unless you allow me to see everything.
[ A tall order, to be sure, but the compassion thick in her voice seems to genuinely anticipate that he will accept her offer, that a part of him wants this, and that she can reach that part yet. Earnestness draws one of her hands up to the glass between them, and only when she feels the cold against her fingertips does she realize that she's leaning in with her efforts to persuade him. Her shoulders slump and she draws back slightly. ]
no subject
In stark contrast to Ren's feral pacing, Rey is a redwood, boots firmly rooted to the ground as if they've been fixed there for centuries, allowing the blows to wash over her to no effect. It does not hurt her to accept this truth, and with the stakes what they are, perhaps even considers it wise to acknowledge out of the gate. ]
If we were to succeed, [ that disclaimer really says it all, hypothetical and wary, devoid of guarantees. The Force requires the commitment of certainty, but Rey knows her limits and accounts for them. ] It would be a first. Not just for me, but for any that Luke is aware of.
[ She does not qualify that with defenses about the records of the Order lost in the Galactic Civil War, decimated by the very genocidal eradication executed by the Empire in order to purge any trace of the Jedi from the collective memory of the galaxy as anything but a myth. Surely, it has been done before. Surely, some Sith was brought back from his mentor, those connections weakened and that influence purged as any Force ability could be.
Similarly, she does not bother educating him on what he likely already knows, that a cleanse can unravel Force abilities that have been exerted on the mind, but have not been used on a scale such as she describes. What they undergo is not a single psychic surgery, but hundreds of them, remodeling the twisted landscape left behind by Snoke's influence. ]
I won't do it unless you allow me. [ The stubborness in her voice is of a moral sort, and with it comes a relenting flicker in her brow that softens her gaze. The same strict adherence to what she believes is justifiable that had her carry him over miles of burning Corellian landscape to this base now stops her from forcing such a change upon him. She would be no better than Snoke if she were to bend him to her will simply because she may potentially have the power to do it (she can't really be sure, can she?). Worse, she knows the weight of what she asks: if they attempt this, there is no telling how different he could be when they resurface from the mind walk. ] And I don't think I can unless you allow me to see everything.
[ A tall order, to be sure, but the compassion thick in her voice seems to genuinely anticipate that he will accept her offer, that a part of him wants this, and that she can reach that part yet. Earnestness draws one of her hands up to the glass between them, and only when she feels the cold against her fingertips does she realize that she's leaning in with her efforts to persuade him. Her shoulders slump and she draws back slightly. ]