[ His words and the weight they carry threaten her, sticking in her throat and threatening to close it with thick dread, all of her energy shrinking to withdraw into her gut as if to shrink away from the darkness intrinsic in the force of his belief. To accept that Luke is using her for her power is logical, and in this case, their only option, not like the consuming manipulation that Snoke exerts over Kylo, but it seems a slippery slope.
Through sheer force of wheel, she draws a breath and forces herself to open to him despite all her reservations and fears, sundering them to preserve her certainty. What she does here, she must do, no matter what dangers she feels it poses to open herself to his mind as much as he opens himself to hers.
It only occurs to her as he leans forward that he could just as easily be seeking to spread the influence of Snoke's way to the corners of her mind in doing this.
Her eyes shift then to Luke, searching for some form of comfort in him, but he extends nothing to her; in that moment, she finds herself missing Han Solo's brief but sympathetic glances, even if when he offered them, she bristled against what she then perceived as pity.
She swallows thickly and nods. His insufficient calm for meditation only aggravates the threat that he poses to her, a pot ready to boil over and scald her, bursting at the seams with untempered power fed by fury and hurt, but she does not let it show beyond the flicker of her eyes to his hands, examining the burns he is no longer working. Her eyes lift to level on his, and the space between them swells, then crumbles. All at once, even the several feet between them feels like too intimate a closeness, and her breath falls from parted lips in time with his. ]
I can guide you. [ Rey, for her part, excels in meditation, though she would not brag on it in answer to his jape. Clearing her mind and finding a calm center comes as easily to her now as it did on Jakku, when those open spaces and her own company were all that she had for more than a decade. Even the harsh grit of the desert soothes her now, rolls over her skin without buffeting it, and it's the desert that she finds when her eyes drift shut. ] Focus on my voice.
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Through sheer force of wheel, she draws a breath and forces herself to open to him despite all her reservations and fears, sundering them to preserve her certainty. What she does here, she must do, no matter what dangers she feels it poses to open herself to his mind as much as he opens himself to hers.
It only occurs to her as he leans forward that he could just as easily be seeking to spread the influence of Snoke's way to the corners of her mind in doing this.
Her eyes shift then to Luke, searching for some form of comfort in him, but he extends nothing to her; in that moment, she finds herself missing Han Solo's brief but sympathetic glances, even if when he offered them, she bristled against what she then perceived as pity.
She swallows thickly and nods. His insufficient calm for meditation only aggravates the threat that he poses to her, a pot ready to boil over and scald her, bursting at the seams with untempered power fed by fury and hurt, but she does not let it show beyond the flicker of her eyes to his hands, examining the burns he is no longer working. Her eyes lift to level on his, and the space between them swells, then crumbles. All at once, even the several feet between them feels like too intimate a closeness, and her breath falls from parted lips in time with his. ]
I can guide you. [ Rey, for her part, excels in meditation, though she would not brag on it in answer to his jape. Clearing her mind and finding a calm center comes as easily to her now as it did on Jakku, when those open spaces and her own company were all that she had for more than a decade. Even the harsh grit of the desert soothes her now, rolls over her skin without buffeting it, and it's the desert that she finds when her eyes drift shut. ] Focus on my voice.