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blarfkey · 4 years

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Armistice -- Reylo ficlet

So I’m spending part of my quarantine digging up old fics and polishing them. I wrote this down right after TROS as a way to let some of the Reylo out of my system. I never intended on publishing, but I’ve grown more proud of it. Tell me if I should throw up on AO3.

BTW -- this is only been lightly beta’d lol.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since Crait, that last look Rey sees on Kylo’s—on Ben’s face—haunts her. As she stared him down from the ramp of the Millennium Falcon, she expected to see anger reflected back at her. Or hatred, jealousy, murderous intent. Especially after hearing how vicious and unhinged his fight was with Luke, how he ordered everyone in the base killed on sight.

Instead she just sees . . .

Grief.

But what haunts her the most is how easily it settles around him, like a second cloak. It’s not a fresh and angry wound, it’s a scar that aches in the middle of the night, that signals the weather, that looks back at you in every mirror.

It’s an old friend.

She knows grief like that.

In the desert, there was always wind whistling through the gaps in her makeshift home. On the Falcon, the ship sang to her in various groans and beeps and whistles. Now, settled on Ajan Kloss, they have to sleep with ear plugs to block out the deafening noise of the jungle.

But nothing is louder than the silence that triggers the Force Bond. It’s her only warning, that sudden dampening, as if someone opened the airlock on a ship. The lack of noise is worse than the noise.

Rey braces herself. So fast—so unpredictably—does he flicker between Kylo and Ben—she never knows what to prepare for. At least on Ahch-to, she had her own anger, her own grief, to guide her. But now boundary lines between friend and enemy have muddled, colors running together to create something she has no idea how to quantify.

He could scream at her or beg for her and she doesn’t know which one is worse. Or how she would react to either.

Instead, only the silence greets her.

Rey turns around and finds him on her bed, laid out on his back, one arm bent against his chest, the other nestled against his side.

He looks dead.

Fear—sharp and surprising—rises in her throat and she takes careful, silent steps towards him. Close enough to see his chest fall ever so slightly. Her own chest rises and falls with her relief, and then she chastises herself for being ridiculous. Of course he’s not dead. She would know— instantly—

He snorts softly in his sleep. Rey freezes, both dreading and hoping for the moment he wakes up. His head drops to its side and does not stir again.

She hears nothing but the sound of his breathing, deep and even. The first time he took off his mask struck her speechless. The monster she had feared looked so young. So impossibly human.

And that’s the way he looks now, in the dim light of her room. He sleeps with the depth of the exhausted and it has eased the furrow in his brow, the drag of his lips, hidden the ferocity of his eyes. He looks like a vision of another person, another Ben, someone who didn’t turn, someone whose hand she could take.

It’s that thought that carries her to the edge of the bed. She hesitates a moment before slowly lowering herself to perch on the edge.

Still he does not wake.

Her hand reaches out and nudges a lock of his hair from his forehead. He has a mole, buried in the hairline by his temple. The urge to kiss it rises up in her, fueled by the knowledge that she could probably get away with it in his current state. Rey swallows, brings her hand down to his chest, and clasps his hand—the one she could not take -- in her own. Her palm rests whisper-light against the back of his hand, her fingers barely skimming the sides of his own.

She sits like this for a long moment, watching him breathe, tracing the lines of his profile. Trying to remind herself of who he could be, if she could just reach him. Any moment now, the connection will break and this moment will become just a memory, but right now, it’s real and it’s hers. It’s one moment of peace between them after so much fighting, so much pain and bitterness and betrayal.

The press of his thumb jolts her from her thoughts. She stares as it brushes, almost reverently, across her knuckles. Her heart leaps in her throat, forcing her to take long, deep breaths. She drags her gaze to his face precisely because of how afraid she is to do it.

His eyes are heavy-lidded from sleep and look at her with such yearning, it hits her like a sucker punch. She hardly dares to breathe as he lifts her hand slowly, gently, to his lips.

His mouth is hot like a brand.

And then he’s gone.

When he saw Rey at his bedside, he thought he had dreamed her. He had been awake for days, the sting of their loss on Crait sending the rest of the First Order scrambling. There was no way she could be real. After all they put each other through, he expects nothing more than her rage.

Such raw power, such feral anger—she reminds him so much of himself. She walks the knife’s edge; if he thought he could just reach her, he could tip her over into the abyss with himself.

But that was Snoke’s desire. He doesn’t want her to turn, to lose that brightness within her, he just wanted—wants—her near. He wants to not be alone. He wants someone who understands him, who looks at him full of hope, and kindness—like she did in the elevator.

And for a moment, his weak, stupid self thought he could have it.

So when he felt her fingers ever so carefully latch onto his, he knew it was a trick of the mind—a fresh way to torture himself. He kissed her hand the way he would have done if she had taken it—and then he woke up.

Now he stares down at her prone form, her knees tucked into her chest, breathing deep and even, and realizes it was not a dream at all.

Rey of Jakku sleeps the rest of the exhausted. She does not stir at his sudden presence. His lightsaber hangs from his belt. He could kill her before she could take her next breath.

Even lost in the depths of his anger, he never had the will to act on such a thought. And he doesn’t think he ever shall, even if her own blade sits at his throat.

In sleep, her hair drapes in disarray. It spills over her shoulder, dangerously close to catching in the small, open-mouthed snores that tumble from her lips.

He remembers—suddenly—vividly—her fingers brushing back a lock of his hair from his brow. In his dream state, it had felt like his mother.

In that moment, she could have done herself the favor of killing him.

(If she had turned like he thought he wanted, she would have.)

Slowly, on the verge of chastising himself, he kneels at the side of her bed and reaches out.

Instantly, he recoils at the stark contrast of his dark leather gloves against the paleness of her cheek. It reminds him too much of the interrogation chamber, of how deeply he tried to frighten her— precisely because she unsettled him so much.

Of how terribly that backfired on him.

Finger by finger, he tugs off his glove before reaching for her again. The wavy strands of her hair feel glossy against his finger tips. He keeps his touch feather-light as he tucks her hair behind her ear, hardly daring to believe his own audacity. A lock of her hair slips back like water down her cheek. His thumb brushes against the shell of her ear as he brushes it back.

She mumbles something too garbled and faint to understand, her hand drifting to wrap softly around his. He freezes when her eyes start to flutter open, struggling to drag herself from sleep. He needs to step away—he needs distance—what is she going to think when she wakes to him touching her—

Frozen in place, he watches helplessly as the fog of sleep clears from her gaze. He sees the exact moment clarity appears, when reality crystallizes behind those eyes.

His breath lies trapped in his lungs, bracing for her reaction.

She tenses beneath him, muscles coiled and ready—a wariness that tries hard not to tumble into fear flashing in her eyes.

It shames him. When he saw her at his bedside, even as a dream, her presence never struck him as anything but welcome.

He hovers over hers like a nightmare.

He pulls his hand back, but she only grips it tighter, her eyes searching his with an intensity that makes him feel horrifically exposed.

“Hello, Ben,” she murmurs, voice soft with sleep.

He swallows against the lump in his throat. The name doesn’t hurt like it used to.

“I thought it was a dream,” he whispers to her. “But it was you, wasn’t it?”

Maybe that’s why he’s here, hand clutched in hers, to confirm for himself the moment that has haunted him.

“Yes.” Her gaze dips away from his with faint embarrassment. “I’m . . . sorry.”

Sorry . . . to offer him mercy, kindness, comfort . . . when he deserves nothing but her all-consuming rage.

He shakes his head. “Look at what I’m doing.”

His hand is still buried in her hairline, thumb still resting against her ear.

It’s not so much a smile as the possibility of one that softens her mouth. Memories from the elevator flash across his mind. It’s as hard to look away from her lips then as it is now.

If she hadn’t disappeared, he doesn’t know what he would have done.

The first thing Leia taught her in her training was how to sense and block others with the Force. Knowing how Rey’s interrogation went with Kylo Ren, keeping him from discovering the base becomes a matter of the greatest priority. Especially since there are so few of them left.

Rey expected the bond to die along with Snoke, not to become stronger. When they touched hands on Ach-to, it felt nothing as solid as the lips on her fingers, that first night in her room. And the touch of his hand in her hair, beneath her fingers—it took a long moment of panic before she could convince herself that he hadn’t physically broken into the base.

When they come together, it feels too real. What would happen if they started seeing each other’s surroundings? What if he hears Leia in the background?

The risk is too great. So Rey spends weeks building up her walls until she can’t feel him anymore. Each time it feels like a betrayal, an abandonment.

Each time does not get easier.

That agility course will be the death of her. She knows it. It’s impossible. If Luke finished it, then he’s a goddamn liar.

Oh, but she came so close today.

She collapses on her pallet in the Falcon, utterly drained. In fact, as the pull of sleep grows heavier, she nearly misses the sudden density of silence, a pleasant weight beside her, another warm breath near her ear.

Rey’s hand flops to the side and it hits something—someone—solid.

She turns sluggishly to face him. He lies next to her, on his side, dark circles haunting his eyes.

It has been months and months since she has seen him or felt him. What does it say about her that she missed these stolen moments of peace?

His eyes track hers with a dark intensity that was not present in their previous interactions. A thread of unease runs through her. Rey swallows and burrows her head into her pillow.

“I’m too tired for a fight,” she murmurs to him.

“I don’t want one.”

But his eyes say differently. They bear down on her, as fathomless as space, only made sharper by the dark circles that lie underneath.

Tentatively, Rey reaches out and brushes her hand against his cheek. She has much more experience in provocation than comfort, especially with him, but she doesn’t like the hard edge of that look in his eyes. Something has changed between then and now, despite them not having a formal confrontation since Crait.

Are you alright? she wants to ask. What happened? What did I do?

Ridiculous questions, each one. As if he would answer. As if she doesn’t already know the answer.

Her thumb swipes delicately across his cheekbone as her fingers trace the stark line of his jaw. His eyes flutter closed. He feels so warm, solid, and alive underneath her touch. It is almost impossible to believe that he isn’t in this very room with her.

The dip of his scar brushes against her thumb and she flinches, jerking her hand away. His eyes snap open, his gaze sharpening with—not condemnation, exactly . . .

Acknowledgment.

“You should admire your handiwork,” he murmurs, pressing her hand with his against the scar.

Rey swallows. Presses her palm down the ridge of his scar as if she could erase it with her touch. In that moment, she had been feral with rage. If the earth had not shattered in half, she might have very well killed him. In fact, as she boarded the Falcon while his reinforcements were out of sight, she believed she had.

The first time she saw it, his scar—blackened with stitches—she felt a surge of pride. The great and fearsome Kylo Ren, taken down by a scavenger with a borrowed lightsaber she had never used before

Now the sight of it makes her sick.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Don’t,” he bites back.

Don’t start, his eyes say to her. Don’t say things you can’t take back.

So far, there has been an unspoken rule—do not mention the past. They are skirting dangerously close to breaking it.

“Okay,” she says, tracing the edge of his hairline, whispering over the mole she discovered. “Okay.”

For a long moment, they do nothing but gaze at each other. Rey catalogs the freckles and beauty marks dotting along on his cheeks and forehead, the slope of his nose; the faint shadow of stubble above his lips. An unwelcome truth struck her, as it did that moment on their way to see Snoke: how could someone mired in so much darkness be so beautiful?

Because he had so much light just waiting to be uncovered—or so she thought. As if Rey, a nobody, could have ever been enough to reach him in such inky darkness.

What thoughts must he have for her, she has no idea, as his gaze skates from her brow, to her nose, to her lips. Whatever they may be, his gaze sharpens with sudden resolve. His hand bridges the distance to cups her cheek, her jaw, the broad span of his palm a warm, comfortable weight.

She leans into hit.

“I’m coming for you, Rey,” he says. “I won’t stop until I find you.”

She swallows.

Something surges in her core, crackling underneath her skin.

It’s not fear.

Anticipation.

“And what exactly is going to happen to me when you do?” she finds herself whispering back.

“You’ll find out when I get to you.”

She swallows, her eyes dipping down to his mouth. “That’s if you catch me first.”

He mirrors her gaze, eyes locking on her lips, much like they did in the elevator.

“I guess we shall see,” he says.

He leans into her, thumb dragging across the corner of her mouth—

For a wild moment, she thinks he is going to kiss her.

For a wild moment, she is going to let him.

And then he’s gone.

#my fic #star wars #reylo #rey #ben solo #reylo fic

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jackiestarsister · 4 years

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My thoughts on “The Rise of Skywalker”

I just saw The Rise of Skywalker with my friend @ewoking-on-sunshine. I’m still processing it, but I have many thoughts. Spoilers below the cut.

It’s not a perfect movie. But I enjoyed it and am, for the most part, satisfied. All I wanted was for it to be enjoyable and make sense and bring some resolution to the story. I think it succeeded overall.

I feel like I can’t complain too much, because the biggest things I wanted to happen did happen: we got Ben’s redemption, a freaking Reylo kiss, and Ben smiling. We even got beautiful things I wasn’t expecting, like Han’s scene, and the revelation that Leia trained as a Jedi for a time. I think it can stand on its own as a story in itself, though The Last Jedi may remain my favorite installment as far as story craft.

Here are my miscellaneous thoughts and opinions:

~ Much of it feels like fan fiction. Whether that is good or bad, I’m not sure. It could just be that the fans were particularly good at predicting possible developments and the general direction of the story.

~ Nothing was revealed about Kylo’s style/method of governing, or whether he did anything to expand the First Order’s power as Rey predicted they would do in TLJ

~ Palpatine’s return could have been set up better

~ The symbolism and significance of Kylo killing his abuser is changed, if not completely ruined, since Snoke was Palpatine’s puppet, and Kylo seems to enter Palpatine’s service after learning that he was the one who manipulated him throughout his life. Maybe Kylo thought if he refused he wouldn’t be able to get away alive?

~ Palpatine’s plans are as confusing as ever. Just how much he controlled, what he was aware of, and what his true intentions were is unclear. In particular, I’m confused about the fact that Palpatine made Snoke, who seemed ignorant of Rey’s origins and told Kylo to kill her, and the fact that Palpatine told Kylo to kill Rey when it turned out he wanted her to come and kill him. Were Snoke and/or Palpatine using reverse psychology in giving Kylo those orders?

~ Palpatine probably had the means to prolong and/or restore Padme’s life the whole time Vader was trying to find a way to do so

~ It is unclear whether Rey ever told anyone about her bond with Kylo or how he killed Snoke (which is pretty relevant information for the Resistance).

~ It’s unclear whether Rey and Kyko have seen or felt each other through the Force at all in the past year. Each movie shows several Force bond connections in a short period of time (one or two days each), and that would add up to a lot in a year, so I’m guessing they didn’t have any for that interim. It seems that although Rey closed the door, Kylo opens it. I don’t really like what that implies.

~ The beginning revealed so much and moved from one set of characters to another so quickly that I wondered whether the story was going to continue following the hero/heroine’s journey(s). Eventually it did, but it felt like the strangest beginning for a Star Wars movie, especially compared to the brilliant opening sequence of The Force Awakens.

~ Rey and Poe’s bickering was fun to watch

~ They did pretty well using those bits of Carrie Fisher footage and making Leia’s death play a role in the story. I’m sure if Fisher were still alive they would have had more justice for Leia.

~ I wish Rose had played a bigger part in the story, and that her relationships with other characters had been clarified and explored more.

~ I wish Ben had interacted with other members of the Resistance. He and Finn had so many parallels in their arcs, and the two of them actually had a couple scenes together, but they were always distant, with Finn watching as Rey interacted with Ben.

~ What was Finn going to tell Rey? What was their relationship about when it came down to it? They had such a wonderful dynamic and intertwined arcs in The Force Awakens, but in this installment it felt like they were running parallel to each other.

~ Giving Poe a shady past as a spice smuggler contradicts his canon backstory revealed in Before the Awakening by Greg Rucka.

~ Hux’s death was disappointingly anticlimactic. Seemed like a waste of his character. I’m not sure how I feel about the twist of him being the spy. He seemed so much less the crazed man who fired Starkiller or the calculating menace who considered killing an unconscious Kylo. Before TROS, Hux’s motivations seemed more political and ideological, a contrast to Kylo’s motives which seemed personal.

~ In what capacity did Pryce serve Palpatine in the previous war?

~ The fact that Rey is a Palpatine raises all kinds of questions about her family. There could be a whole trilogy about what kind of relationship Sheev and his child had. I wonder if the mother of his child was Mara Jade or someone like her who worked closely with him. But the mention of cloning and other strange techniques for making or passing on life makes me wonder if his child was even “natural” or somehow made.

~ Rey’s Dark Side heritage makes her affinity with the light side even more ironic and miraculous. Or maybe the irony is that someone as dark as Palpatine could come from such an idyllic utopia as Naboo. Maybe they are trying to show that it is our choices, not our origins, that define us.

~ The fact that Rey is descended from a powerful established character takes away from the idea that Rey represented for me and many others, that a great person can come from humble, unimportant origins.

~ Finn’s arc was opposite of predicted stormtrooper rebellion. The stormtrooper paradox still holds.

~ The hunt for Sith clues doesn’t make sense. It makes even less sense than the search for Luke in TFA, which was full of holes and unexplained coincidences.

~ The way Ben stands on the Death Star looking out at the horizon was 100% Byronic hero, but also similar to Luke’s posture when looking at the Tatooine suns.

~ Seeing Kylo talking to Han and Rey talking to Luke underscored how Kylo and Rey are co-protagonists.

~ How long did Ben stay at the Death Star ruins contemplating his and Rey’s situation? Apparently long enough for Rey to go to Ahch-To, talk to Luke, and go to Exegol, because he arrives there later than her. Time and distance in these movies have never made much sense, but I wonder if there might be some deleted scenes involving Kylo at this point. Did he realize he had lost control of the First Order? Did he ever think about ordering them not to follow Palpatine?

~ Regarding minor pilot characters: Happy to see Wedge Antilles back, sad to see Snap Wexley die.

~ Poe could have had better resolution for his arc as an emerging leader

~ Finn tries once again to sacrifice himself despite what Rose said to him after he tried to do that in TLJ. (While I don’t think it was necessary, Ben’s death was in keeping with her words because he died to save what he loved.)

~ We finally got a Reylo music theme! If I’m not mistaken, it had the Force theme sort of underlying it but there were other things going on too. I look forward to hearing the What the Force podcast’s discussion on this.

~ Rose was right that they would win by “Not fighting what we hate. Saving what we love.” Rey refused to even hate Palpatine. Ben came to save Rey and that enabled her to save everyone else.

~ My favorite moments of each sequel involve Rey, Ben, and a light saber passing between them.

~ Everything that was said to Rey and Ben about home, family, coming home, coming back ... it was all leading up to their teaming up. Palpatine was wrong when he said he was Rey’s only family. Ben became her family, and that was part of the reason why she took his family name. Whoever wrote the caption “The belonging you seek is in Ben Solo’s arms” was right.

~ We still don’t know what, if any, ideology Ben held, how he felt about political power and different forms of government. That pretty much reinforces my belief that for him this has never been about politics, it’s all been personal for him.

~ Ben’s death is problematic if he is supposed to represent people who have been abused and made poor life choices. It’s a beautiful sacrifice, but did Rey really have to die and necessitate it? She could have been mortally wounded, and he could have healed her without dying himself.

~ If passing his life force to Rey cost his life, Ben should have died before Rey kissed him.

~ Ben’s death is tragic, but not technically a tragedy in the literary sense, because it’s not about learning how to avoid making mistakes like his. For all his faults (narcissism, anger that manifests in violence), Ben didn’t have a particular fatal flaw. He fell because he was a victim of circumstances and forces beyond his control. He died saving the woman he loved, which sounds like a good thing.

~ I’m surprised the Lars homestead was still standing after it seemed to have burned to ash in A New Hope, and I find it difficult to believe that on a planet like Tatooine someone else would not have claimed it.

~ The title refers to both Ben and Rey, since Rey becomes a Skywalker

~ From a certain point of view, Reylos and Rey Skywalkers were both right, and both wrong.

~ Why didn’t Ben become a Force ghost like Luke and Leia? Can he become one in the future? I find the matter of whether a Jedi/Force-user leaves behind their physical body or fades away to become one with the Force, and whether they become capable of manifesting as a ghost, sketchy and inconsistent.

~ What is Rey going to do now? Was she moving into the Lars homestead? Will she raise a family of her own? I think it unlikely that she would fall in love with anyone as deeply as she did with Kylo, and I think she might be hesitant to have biological children who would inherit her (Palpatine) Force abilities, but I can picture her adopting and/or mentoring children.

~ The theme of IX seems to be “You’re not alone,” the way 8’s was “Failure is the greatest teacher.” It is the lesson Rey, Finn, Poe, and Ben each learn. But in the end Rey does seem alone.

~ Rey’s greatest fears were being alone and being insignificant. Is the takeaway supposed to be that she is okay with being alone? That would go against the movie’s overarching theme. Similarly, Star Wars is about family, and while that theme definitely comes through, it would have been so well punctuated if the story ended with the main characters starting families.

~ Nothing was resolved regarding the government(s) of the galaxy. Is it in a state of anarchy now? Were they able to learn from the mistakes of the past two republics?

~ Did Rey, Ben, the Jedi, and/or the Resistance bring balance to the Force? Is the corresponding rise and fall of the light and dark finally over? Will this peace last? Will Rey be the last Jedi or will she pass on their legacy?

~ What was the point of this trilogy as a whole? What message are we supposed to take away from it? Is it still a Prodigal Son type of story?

Now I’m going to spend time thinking about how this will impact my fan fiction and my essays on the Christian themes of the Star Wars sequel trilogy. I will look forward to reading the (apparently expanded edition) novelization and having good quality screenshots and one more Shakespearean parody by Ian Doescher.

#The Rise of Skywalker spoilers

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