[ And for an instant, she sees it. Every flash of a location in his mind that could potentially hold something pleasantly neutral, tainted by the looming shadow of Snoke, either in whispers or curling tendrils of dark creeping at the edge of his perception, the only constant. Sorrow grips her, pushing sympathy into her eyes that looks too like pity, and she feels no less powerful for turning her chin up towards him to lock his gaze with it. ]
Your whole life has never known a moment of peace, has it?
[ The very concept is at odds with her understanding. Jakku was brutal; she'd had to learn to fight to survive, and fast. It showed in the scrappy earnest of her lightsaber wielding still, a relic of her exile that she could not abandon, but she had learned and for long stretches, the respect it earned her had helped her to be left alone to comfort herself on the cold nights. ]
Be patient. It won't come easily. [ And the need for them to get it right is too great. She gestures up the hill and begins to walk, welcoming him at her side wordlessly. The deep breath she draws savors the clear and dry air of Jakku, so different from the thick heat of Corellia, missed in some ways and yet not at all.
Kylo Ren doesn't have that. Every planet he's seen, every experience he's had, tinted by the shade of the dark side, creating a barrier that kept him from truly experiencing quiet. If she could, she would introduce it to him. Show him something that Snoke had never touched. ]
My earliest memory is when I arrived here, four years old and screaming. [ Her voice matches the rhythm of her footsteps. The sand swallows her boots with each planted foot, sifting off the sides as she lifts them out and carries on, the rhythmic persistence lulling her into a sense of ease, just as the metronome of her soft voice will hopefully do for him, with time, disarming him. ] And yours? How long has he been there?
[ The very question demonstrates the extent to which she misunderstands, the way she believes it can be quantified in stretches of time or collective moments, tied into a neat number or experience. Mostly, she only hopes it will get him talking. Candidly, if such a thing were possible. ]
no subject
Your whole life has never known a moment of peace, has it?
[ The very concept is at odds with her understanding. Jakku was brutal; she'd had to learn to fight to survive, and fast. It showed in the scrappy earnest of her lightsaber wielding still, a relic of her exile that she could not abandon, but she had learned and for long stretches, the respect it earned her had helped her to be left alone to comfort herself on the cold nights. ]
Be patient. It won't come easily. [ And the need for them to get it right is too great. She gestures up the hill and begins to walk, welcoming him at her side wordlessly. The deep breath she draws savors the clear and dry air of Jakku, so different from the thick heat of Corellia, missed in some ways and yet not at all.
Kylo Ren doesn't have that. Every planet he's seen, every experience he's had, tinted by the shade of the dark side, creating a barrier that kept him from truly experiencing quiet. If she could, she would introduce it to him. Show him something that Snoke had never touched. ]
My earliest memory is when I arrived here, four years old and screaming. [ Her voice matches the rhythm of her footsteps. The sand swallows her boots with each planted foot, sifting off the sides as she lifts them out and carries on, the rhythmic persistence lulling her into a sense of ease, just as the metronome of her soft voice will hopefully do for him, with time, disarming him. ] And yours? How long has he been there?
[ The very question demonstrates the extent to which she misunderstands, the way she believes it can be quantified in stretches of time or collective moments, tied into a neat number or experience. Mostly, she only hopes it will get him talking. Candidly, if such a thing were possible. ]