( Her face runs through a series of transparent emotions, but Rey is quick to tuck each of them away, never giving more than she offers and taking as much as she receives. He's as confused about his own comment as she appears to be, or at least as startled by it as she momentarily is. Regret is not something that he often feels, but when it hits, it hits with the full force of a Star Destroyer breaking atmosphere. The physical repercussions of his grip on her arm hold little weight where he's concerned, where violence was a means of trade and respect and coddling pain wasn't tolerated, but the implications inherent in the act on its own are things he feels bad about, in his own way.
That he brought Snoke to her after she entrusted this task to him, after she took a risk in letting him out of the command shuttle to offer him this balm; that she looked into him and took a chance on what might not have been there after seeing Kylo cut down Han Solo for daring to suggest the same; that he doubted her ability to reject the darkness, filtered through time and space and the heavy veil of their joined minds or otherwise, and couldn't be sure whether or not he needed to hold her at bay in an effort to evade off a potential attack. The trust between them is tumultuous and practically non-existent, stands on ground rockier than the explosions had no doubt left their construct of Ilum, but for some reason it exists all the same. Inherently, standing across from her with dried sweat on his brow and the taste of vomit still in his mouth, with dirt smeared high on her forehead and the red rush of warm blood back to the surface of her skin, he knows that this is just the beginning.
Exhaustion pours into his veins and stretches long limbs behind his eyelids, bringing a burn not unlike the one that had worked its way up the back of his throat when he closes his eyes briefly against the sunlight. Thumb and forefinger press into the paper thin skin that creases there, and colors explode like fireworks in the darkness of his vision as attempts to work the ache beginning deep in his skull out that way. It isn't clear to him whether or not he's the source of the dull sensations of a blooming headache or if it's Rey - likewise with the imminent threat of exhaustion. He opens his eyes again and she fills his view of the world. )
He knows where to look. Hux will have informed him by now. The First Order won't risk attacking again until the rest of our fleet is ready to mobilize. With the Corellians withdrawing their support by going back on the arrangement made regarding the militarized ships, not to mention attacking us alongside Resistance forces, and with the winds still as strong as they are, the Supreme Leader - and Hux - will advise against immediate retaliation, at least until they're sure they'll win the fight. ( It feels inherently wrong to be speaking against the Order, and it's something he will have to examine at length for himself once he has the benefit of being alone, should that occasion arise. In the Resistance camp, he seriously doubts it. The fact remains that his assistance to the Resistance in any capacity is now beneficial to him as well: Kylo Ren is a fugitive, regardless of his end game, whatever he determines that to be, and if they leave the planet and escape the First Order with him in their possession, he escapes judgment as well. For now. ) They may blockade the planet. Whatever ships are left following the assault will likely remain close by to either wait for reinforcements to arrive and lay siege or relay information to Hux regarding the direction the Resistance goes once they leave Corellia. Everything the Resistance does needs to be done quickly and quietly.
( He has a distinct distaste for military strategy. That's always been Hux's area of both expertise and arousal. But the benefit of having had to listen to the man for years following his appointment from the naval academy means that Kylo has a unique perspective on his strategies and ways of thinking. It's clear what use he could be to the Resistance, and he gets the impression that it's as he mentioned to Rey once before: trading one leash for another. He starts to sweat where his hair crowds the column of his throat and the nape of his neck, and he passes his hand underneath it to wipe some of it away. )
no subject
That he brought Snoke to her after she entrusted this task to him, after she took a risk in letting him out of the command shuttle to offer him this balm; that she looked into him and took a chance on what might not have been there after seeing Kylo cut down Han Solo for daring to suggest the same; that he doubted her ability to reject the darkness, filtered through time and space and the heavy veil of their joined minds or otherwise, and couldn't be sure whether or not he needed to hold her at bay in an effort to evade off a potential attack. The trust between them is tumultuous and practically non-existent, stands on ground rockier than the explosions had no doubt left their construct of Ilum, but for some reason it exists all the same. Inherently, standing across from her with dried sweat on his brow and the taste of vomit still in his mouth, with dirt smeared high on her forehead and the red rush of warm blood back to the surface of her skin, he knows that this is just the beginning.
Exhaustion pours into his veins and stretches long limbs behind his eyelids, bringing a burn not unlike the one that had worked its way up the back of his throat when he closes his eyes briefly against the sunlight. Thumb and forefinger press into the paper thin skin that creases there, and colors explode like fireworks in the darkness of his vision as attempts to work the ache beginning deep in his skull out that way. It isn't clear to him whether or not he's the source of the dull sensations of a blooming headache or if it's Rey - likewise with the imminent threat of exhaustion. He opens his eyes again and she fills his view of the world. )
He knows where to look. Hux will have informed him by now. The First Order won't risk attacking again until the rest of our fleet is ready to mobilize. With the Corellians withdrawing their support by going back on the arrangement made regarding the militarized ships, not to mention attacking us alongside Resistance forces, and with the winds still as strong as they are, the Supreme Leader - and Hux - will advise against immediate retaliation, at least until they're sure they'll win the fight. ( It feels inherently wrong to be speaking against the Order, and it's something he will have to examine at length for himself once he has the benefit of being alone, should that occasion arise. In the Resistance camp, he seriously doubts it. The fact remains that his assistance to the Resistance in any capacity is now beneficial to him as well: Kylo Ren is a fugitive, regardless of his end game, whatever he determines that to be, and if they leave the planet and escape the First Order with him in their possession, he escapes judgment as well. For now. ) They may blockade the planet. Whatever ships are left following the assault will likely remain close by to either wait for reinforcements to arrive and lay siege or relay information to Hux regarding the direction the Resistance goes once they leave Corellia. Everything the Resistance does needs to be done quickly and quietly.
( He has a distinct distaste for military strategy. That's always been Hux's area of both expertise and arousal. But the benefit of having had to listen to the man for years following his appointment from the naval academy means that Kylo has a unique perspective on his strategies and ways of thinking. It's clear what use he could be to the Resistance, and he gets the impression that it's as he mentioned to Rey once before: trading one leash for another. He starts to sweat where his hair crowds the column of his throat and the nape of his neck, and he passes his hand underneath it to wipe some of it away. )
How do we get out of here?