( He balks at her sympathy, somehow managing not to mistake it for the pity that presents itself in her eyes as they turn toward him, her whole face tipped to catch his gaze and pin him there, but still staggering somewhat under the weight of it. Or under the weight of the sand. One misplaced steps sends him nearly to his knees as the ground shifts and dunes rise and fall underneath them, the ground surging up to mid-calf and spilling into his boots. Rey, by contrast, is a veteran of the sand, comprised of sand. She doesn't sink nearly as deep as he does, and it isn't until he matches her step stride for stride that he finds the footholds in the shifting grains, bleached white and then red by the shifting light of the moon, and ceases to sink so far down.
Her question seems rhetorical, but her voice is soft, and Kylo has the impression that if he so much as thought an answer, a tapestry of scenery would present itself in an effort to show her the exact details of it. That awareness halts him. He hasn't let go of enough yet, still has sand crowding around his ankles, hasn't found the release mechanism that will allow her to see everything as she had claimed was needed previously. The longer he follows her, the less sure he is that he's actively capable of doing it. Be patient, she says, as if he has ever actually known the expression. )
I. ( Starts. Stops. Sinks and catches himself on a kneecap. Up again and walking. He grits his teeth and resolutely determines that he will not be pitied. Anger curls in the low sling of his gut. Anger and fear. But her voice is soft. Their stumbling, haggard pace through the sand breaks his words into fragmented sentences. Sand gets in his mouth and crunches between his teeth. ) I can't remember. You can't assign a value to something that infinite. It isn't like we ran into one another at the market when I was five and got to talking. ( It occurs to him that he isn't totally sure what actually comes out of his mouth and what is projected into the world around them as amplified thought. Not that it matters. ) It was there as long as I was there. Sometimes louder, sometimes quiet, but always still there.
( It. Snoke, sure, but it, too. The darkness. The trace of his signature through the Force as soon as it burst into life. The Supreme Leader knew of Ben Solo's existence before he was the Supreme Leader, knew the power that would manifest in another child in the Skywalker line. His long gaze telescoped in until it pierced galaxies and star systems alike, paved a road from his icy tomb and crawled out of the twlight to reach for the darkness that already existed in Ben's heart and breathe. Snoke was electricity looking for the perfect, special something to flow into; the Dark within him as a child was the perfect conductor. )
You were barely even a child. Why did they leave you?
( He clearly has no conception of the specifics of her abandonment but it doesn't take being inside of her mind to gauge the source of her loneliness. It had been so tangible when he pushed into her the first time, before she had been able to toss him back out, like snagging a nail and ripping the entire thing off in swift pull, the pain sharp and deep. Kylo doubts that she knows the answer - children often do, before a certain age, and are fated to form their own ideas - but he asks anyway, in the interest of talking. To her.
They crest the hill, and the down slope of the dune is paved with ice and hard-packed snow, dotted with trees that eventually blanket the valley in a thick carpet of evergreens below. Starkiller Base stretches out in front of them, thick with trees and echoes, a graveyard full of ghosts of the Unknown Regions and swirling with blue-white flakes, chips of ice and snow that fall with deceptive grace and peace. Kylo regards the change in scenery for a moment, then steps with Rey onto new but familiar terrain. )
no subject
Her question seems rhetorical, but her voice is soft, and Kylo has the impression that if he so much as thought an answer, a tapestry of scenery would present itself in an effort to show her the exact details of it. That awareness halts him. He hasn't let go of enough yet, still has sand crowding around his ankles, hasn't found the release mechanism that will allow her to see everything as she had claimed was needed previously. The longer he follows her, the less sure he is that he's actively capable of doing it. Be patient, she says, as if he has ever actually known the expression. )
I. ( Starts. Stops. Sinks and catches himself on a kneecap. Up again and walking. He grits his teeth and resolutely determines that he will not be pitied. Anger curls in the low sling of his gut. Anger and fear. But her voice is soft. Their stumbling, haggard pace through the sand breaks his words into fragmented sentences. Sand gets in his mouth and crunches between his teeth. ) I can't remember. You can't assign a value to something that infinite. It isn't like we ran into one another at the market when I was five and got to talking. ( It occurs to him that he isn't totally sure what actually comes out of his mouth and what is projected into the world around them as amplified thought. Not that it matters. ) It was there as long as I was there. Sometimes louder, sometimes quiet, but always still there.
( It. Snoke, sure, but it, too. The darkness. The trace of his signature through the Force as soon as it burst into life. The Supreme Leader knew of Ben Solo's existence before he was the Supreme Leader, knew the power that would manifest in another child in the Skywalker line. His long gaze telescoped in until it pierced galaxies and star systems alike, paved a road from his icy tomb and crawled out of the twlight to reach for the darkness that already existed in Ben's heart and breathe. Snoke was electricity looking for the perfect, special something to flow into; the Dark within him as a child was the perfect conductor. )
You were barely even a child. Why did they leave you?
( He clearly has no conception of the specifics of her abandonment but it doesn't take being inside of her mind to gauge the source of her loneliness. It had been so tangible when he pushed into her the first time, before she had been able to toss him back out, like snagging a nail and ripping the entire thing off in swift pull, the pain sharp and deep. Kylo doubts that she knows the answer - children often do, before a certain age, and are fated to form their own ideas - but he asks anyway, in the interest of talking. To her.
They crest the hill, and the down slope of the dune is paved with ice and hard-packed snow, dotted with trees that eventually blanket the valley in a thick carpet of evergreens below. Starkiller Base stretches out in front of them, thick with trees and echoes, a graveyard full of ghosts of the Unknown Regions and swirling with blue-white flakes, chips of ice and snow that fall with deceptive grace and peace. Kylo regards the change in scenery for a moment, then steps with Rey onto new but familiar terrain. )