( Ready or not, dedicated to the outcome on a grander scale as opposed to something more intimately personal or not, arrogant and bloated on the confidence in his own abilities or warring with the conflict within him, at his heart Kylo isn't entirely convinced that they can do this. He knows doubt leads to downfall, and that they need equal strength in their convictions to see it through, but what he knows of Force bonds - rudimentary at best - leaves the ground that they stand on shaky and their footing unsure. Something drastic needs to happen, some cataclysmic shift needs to occur. He can sense the doubt in her, the inexperience, and it twines with the deep well that taps within him and leaves him doubtful of their ability to see this through.
Fear is a common sentiment among his kind, and as such he's not surprised to find it pooling in every indentation he leaves behind him, stepping through thorny, clawing underbrush. Every step they take further toward the planet's central city, toward Ben Solo's home, brings the question into sharper and sharper focus, from the back of his mind where it lies unconscious to the forefront, where it rests a heavy, soothingly familiar hand on his brow. What if they fail? What if in attempting to surgically remove Snoke's free access to the Outer Rim and Unknown Regions and Core of Kylo's mind, they ring the bell of the bond and invite the Supreme Leader to their front door? He will know of Kylo's betrayal - the First Order notwithstanding; it's the keen betrayal of Snoke's influence and power over his apprentice that will concern him the most - and of Rey's involvement. He doesn't care about the Resistance suffering because of his actions but the havoc that he could wreak on Kylo's mind alone at the barest suggestion of defection is enough.
That fear, that doubt, is a sharp contrast to what he feels of Rey in the vision that they share: her unwavering conviction in the face of her distinct lack of knowledge; the calm center that she finds amidst the storm of his flickering perceptions and emotions. Inexplicably, pride. It isn't that he hasn't experienced it before. Snoke has cradled the back of his head and held him in higher regard than he could have ever imagined he'd experience while training under Skywalker, had been proud of him in ways that he could never have fathomed before turning his back on the path that was chosen for him. It slipped in and sung in his veins like a heady drug, just as the Dark Side had found its way in so easily, invited and welcomed. This is different. It's familiar but foreign, the echo of something long ago, and it would have perturbed and very probably even enraged him at one time - before the Corellian forest, before Yaga Minor, before Starkiller.
Her words run over him like water. Cool. Bleeding some of her calm into him, measure by measure. Kylo sees an island, an ocean, fresh flowing creeks and streams, but they don't manifest. Not yet. )
You're still trying to assign chronological value to events. ( His voice is patient, which shouldn't come as a surprise given his initial tone and cadence when they held each other's minds in their hands like pliable, malleable objects. ) It might be easier for you to visualize the history of things that way, but the reality is there was never a definite starting point. Snoke and the darkness were always there. ( Without the mask, with his face this open, he knows that he looks about twelve-years-old. There's nothing to be done to change it. ) I'm not sure where to begin.
( It alarms him, somewhat, to think that when and if they manage to find a way to not necessarily break the bond between himself and Snoke but at least bolster his defenses against it, what might take root in the connection that he and Rey have in its absence. He continues leading her, though, further and further into the heart of the moon, toward home. )
no subject
Fear is a common sentiment among his kind, and as such he's not surprised to find it pooling in every indentation he leaves behind him, stepping through thorny, clawing underbrush. Every step they take further toward the planet's central city, toward Ben Solo's home, brings the question into sharper and sharper focus, from the back of his mind where it lies unconscious to the forefront, where it rests a heavy, soothingly familiar hand on his brow. What if they fail? What if in attempting to surgically remove Snoke's free access to the Outer Rim and Unknown Regions and Core of Kylo's mind, they ring the bell of the bond and invite the Supreme Leader to their front door? He will know of Kylo's betrayal - the First Order notwithstanding; it's the keen betrayal of Snoke's influence and power over his apprentice that will concern him the most - and of Rey's involvement. He doesn't care about the Resistance suffering because of his actions but the havoc that he could wreak on Kylo's mind alone at the barest suggestion of defection is enough.
That fear, that doubt, is a sharp contrast to what he feels of Rey in the vision that they share: her unwavering conviction in the face of her distinct lack of knowledge; the calm center that she finds amidst the storm of his flickering perceptions and emotions. Inexplicably, pride. It isn't that he hasn't experienced it before. Snoke has cradled the back of his head and held him in higher regard than he could have ever imagined he'd experience while training under Skywalker, had been proud of him in ways that he could never have fathomed before turning his back on the path that was chosen for him. It slipped in and sung in his veins like a heady drug, just as the Dark Side had found its way in so easily, invited and welcomed. This is different. It's familiar but foreign, the echo of something long ago, and it would have perturbed and very probably even enraged him at one time - before the Corellian forest, before Yaga Minor, before Starkiller.
Her words run over him like water. Cool. Bleeding some of her calm into him, measure by measure. Kylo sees an island, an ocean, fresh flowing creeks and streams, but they don't manifest. Not yet. )
You're still trying to assign chronological value to events. ( His voice is patient, which shouldn't come as a surprise given his initial tone and cadence when they held each other's minds in their hands like pliable, malleable objects. ) It might be easier for you to visualize the history of things that way, but the reality is there was never a definite starting point. Snoke and the darkness were always there. ( Without the mask, with his face this open, he knows that he looks about twelve-years-old. There's nothing to be done to change it. ) I'm not sure where to begin.
( It alarms him, somewhat, to think that when and if they manage to find a way to not necessarily break the bond between himself and Snoke but at least bolster his defenses against it, what might take root in the connection that he and Rey have in its absence. He continues leading her, though, further and further into the heart of the moon, toward home. )