[ The deep hiss of Snoke’s voice rattles through the landscape, threatening to throw Rey off balance, but she shifts the distribution of her weight as it teeters beneath her, keeping her footing on uneven ground as a crack runs through the ice beneath them. It turns to laughter, a wheezing rattle that even in its superficial frailty mocks her and makes her feel infinitely small beside the power of the Supreme Leader.
The tremble echoes into the physical world, the camp, Leia, Luke, and all of it too ignorant to see what’s coming for them. Defenseless. The inevitable second prong of Snoke’s attack creates an impossible gambit; one of them will be without Rey’s protection, either Kylo Ren, or the entirety of the Resistance, and she must choose which can better handle the onslaught to juggle against which would ultimately be more valuable in the war to come.
Even as she accepts that she must stay and see through what she committed to, accepts that she must entrust Leia and Luke with the defense of the Resistance and believe that they can raise their banners quickly enough to make a stand against whatever back-up finds its way to Corellia, Rey feels guilt sink deep into her bones for what she knows could deliver a devastating blow to the small remaining hope for the galaxy.
Her preemptive grief opens the door to darkness, not her hate, but she clamps down on it the moment she hears the patronizing hiss coaxing her to give in and allow it to rule her. But Snoke’s offer is even less tempting than Kylo Ren’s, lacking the appeal to her ignorance and inexperience, the lure of untapped knowledge. Snoke has nothing that she wants. ]
I don’t need it. [ She growls the words against the whisper, whipping around as if blown about by the shifting landscape to search out some manifestation of his presence to no avail. He is nowhere and everywhere, an all-present shadow looming over Ilum and enveloping them in its inky black.
The surrounding wasteland only stops spinning when Kylo Ren’s hand settles on her arm, an anchor that he uses to pull her into position behind him, as if in a petty battle of who has greater need to be defended. Looking up at him, confusion furrows her brow, and instead of indignation over the way he impedes Snoke’s path to her, Rey finds herself too startled by the surreal chain of events that is Kylo Ren bodily defending her at all.
It takes her a moment to shake the shock of it off, a brief cut of her head from one side to the other metaphysically extricating her from such a state. ]
You’re the one with the power here. Not him. [ Not that he apparently needs the reminder, a fact for which Rey finds herself both stunned and grateful. ] Get rid of him.
no subject
The tremble echoes into the physical world, the camp, Leia, Luke, and all of it too ignorant to see what’s coming for them. Defenseless. The inevitable second prong of Snoke’s attack creates an impossible gambit; one of them will be without Rey’s protection, either Kylo Ren, or the entirety of the Resistance, and she must choose which can better handle the onslaught to juggle against which would ultimately be more valuable in the war to come.
Even as she accepts that she must stay and see through what she committed to, accepts that she must entrust Leia and Luke with the defense of the Resistance and believe that they can raise their banners quickly enough to make a stand against whatever back-up finds its way to Corellia, Rey feels guilt sink deep into her bones for what she knows could deliver a devastating blow to the small remaining hope for the galaxy.
Her preemptive grief opens the door to darkness, not her hate, but she clamps down on it the moment she hears the patronizing hiss coaxing her to give in and allow it to rule her. But Snoke’s offer is even less tempting than Kylo Ren’s, lacking the appeal to her ignorance and inexperience, the lure of untapped knowledge. Snoke has nothing that she wants. ]
I don’t need it. [ She growls the words against the whisper, whipping around as if blown about by the shifting landscape to search out some manifestation of his presence to no avail. He is nowhere and everywhere, an all-present shadow looming over Ilum and enveloping them in its inky black.
The surrounding wasteland only stops spinning when Kylo Ren’s hand settles on her arm, an anchor that he uses to pull her into position behind him, as if in a petty battle of who has greater need to be defended. Looking up at him, confusion furrows her brow, and instead of indignation over the way he impedes Snoke’s path to her, Rey finds herself too startled by the surreal chain of events that is Kylo Ren bodily defending her at all.
It takes her a moment to shake the shock of it off, a brief cut of her head from one side to the other metaphysically extricating her from such a state. ]
You’re the one with the power here. Not him. [ Not that he apparently needs the reminder, a fact for which Rey finds herself both stunned and grateful. ] Get rid of him.