Chapter Text
Rey wants to build her own lightsaber from what remains of Luke's. Leia tells her about the double-bladed lightsaber design and Rey knows that's why the Kyber crystal broke in half, to ensure that she can build just that. It's perfect for her.
Finding instructions and schematics for building such a saber proves to be more tricky than anticipated though, she can't find any information on how to build laser swords. It's a good thing she's kind of a tech wizard. By looking at the broken pieces she can figure most of the principles out, but it still proves to be too much of a challenge. She just can't get the parts to fit properly, to behave the way she needs them to.
She's at it for several weeks, cursing and sweating and starting over from the beginning more times than she wants to count. When almost at the brink of giving up, banging her fists uselessly at the table, thus scattering the lose pieces everywhere, that's when he appears.
She had thought the bond broken for ever, that last glimpse they had of each other on Crait to have been just a residual effect of Snoke's power.
The blood drains from her face and she is chilled down to her bone at seeing him again, so close.
She scrambles to her feet, trying to create a sense of equilibrium between them, even though the difference in their heights won't be much affected by her standing up.
”How, is this your doing? Can you do this now?” she asks him incredulous, panicked at the thought of his power having grown to Snoke's magnitude.
But he looks confused, taken by surprise, she realizes. Like her, but less distraught.
”No, and I'm guessing it still isn't you doing it...” Kylo Ren furrows his brow, squinting at her like he's trying to unlock a mystery.
”It would appear Snoke wasn't the one instigating the force connecting us after all. He must have felt it happening and, wanting to use it to his advantage, he lied about it being his design.” Kylo speaks in a low voice, more to himself than to Rey, it seems. Making it sound like this new information carries a great bit of weight for him.
”But he wasn't the one responsible for the bond between us....” His voice grow quieter and quieter, until Rey can't hear him finish the sentence.
But it does make her relax a little.
”Maybe he initiated it, but then it grew out of his control?” she tries to casually converse with him, desperate to bring a semblance of normality to this situation, to keep her from freaking out.
”I think not. We would have known if someone else was involved, don't you think? This bond between us, it always felt... private, personal. Untainted.”
He stresses the consonants in that last word, making it sound taunting and sarcastic, but in his eyes Rey can see conviction. Then his focus seems to shift, and he looks at her in a different way. Curiosity now leaking through his black eyes.
”You are frustrated. Tell me, what ails you?”
What is that? Is he trying to deflect her unease at, once again, finding herself in this situation? Is that genuine concern she hears in his voice, worry about her well-being?
Or is this also just a cunning ruse, him trying to lull her into a false sense of security, so she might once again be decieved into running to his side, thinking he could turn?
He takes a step towards her and she backs away, into the table behind her. The parts on it rattle. Kylo tilts his head, as if he's trying to peer behind her. But he can't, surely? The bond doesn't allow for them to see any of their surroundings?
”What's that?” he asks intrigued, establishing her ignorance of things force-related once again. ”You building something?”
She see's it the moment realization hit his face. He still hasn't learned how to control his features, every emotion emerging in him is displayed so clearly on his face for her to see. She likes that about him. It seems like a trait all Ben and no Kylo.
”You're building a lightsaber... You're rebuilding that lightsaber...”
She can't say why or even if it's her doing, but suddenly she's alone again. The sound of her heartbeats filling her head, and her hands hurting from cresent moon-shaped cuts in her palms.
Since the last time they saw each other, Rey has managed to convince herself that what she had started to feel, when they for the first time spoke to each other in low, hushed tones, speaking words of confidence and encouragement, was just due to her being overworked, underslept, generally confused and alone.
That she thought she could feel her heart grow softer when in the presence of Kylo Ren had just been a side effect of that bone wrenching tiredness she had felt back then.
Them not seeing each other for this past month has let her convince herself that what she thought she felt was nothing of consequence.
But now, standing alone and actually trembling, her breath shallow and rapid, she remembers. She remembers how he was the only one she wanted to talk to after her experience in the cave. How she knew he was the only one who would understand, could relate to her. She remembers how it felt, seeing them standing side by side in her vision when they touched hands. How her heart broke when he met her with stormtroopers and restraints after she had shipped herself to him. And how she had felt her heart mend and swell as he killed Snoke, for her. Only to break it again when he didn't choose her at the end of the battle, but had instead chosen power and the chance to rule.
And she remembers how she, if only for the shortest of seconds, had actually concidered it. She had felt such a strong temptation to just take his hand, let him lead her to whatever future he had seen in his vision. So that she could stay with him, in any way possible.
Even after all that heartbreak she hadn't been able to just leave him there, defenceless. When she regained consciousness and found him still passed out, she had made sure he had his lightsaber safely at his side. And he still tried to shoot her out of the sky when she arrived at Crait. Back then she had tried to convince herself that he was probably too preoccupied to reflect on the fact that it must have been her and Chewie piloting it. That he had just reacted on instinct, but as the weeks went by she had come to the conclusion that he no doubt did know. He just didn't care whether she lived or died.
Him showing up like this, sounding worried about her distress, wanting her to talk to him about it? It brings back those buried feelings, letting them pick up where she thought she had left them for dead. The connection she had felt with him being brought back to life, spreading through her veins. Making her feel hope, trust, and a shameful longing.