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fairytales-and-folklore · 3 months ago

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Star Maps To Uncharted Worlds

Star Wars » Reylo

Title: Star Maps To Uncharted Worlds

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Star Wars (Masterlist)

Relationship: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren x Rey

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: A fix-it fic for Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise Of Skywalker. After the defeat of Emperor Palpatine and the First Order, Ben and Rey leave the dark hollow of Exegol and step out into the light, a little worse for wear, but alive and together, two halves of one soul reunited, eager to travel the stars.

When she kisses him, it's like he's being healed all over again, hollow heart flooding with pure sunlight. When she kisses him, time holds its breath, just for them. Suns set and rise over a blur of landscapes conquered by a thousand different civilizations; empires fall and rebellion is born from their ashes; galaxies collide and become nothing more than stardust; and still, all he knows is the taste of her lips beneath his own, the sound of his name caught in a breathless moan at the back of her throat; an entire lifetime lived within the span of a single kiss.

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You will take the throne.

It is your birthright to rule.

It is in your blood. Our blood.

Kill me, and my spirit will pass into you.

As all the Sith live in me, you will be Empress.

We will be one.

Strike me down—

Take the throne—

Reign over a new empire—

And the fleet will be yours.

Only you have the power to save them.

Refuse, and your new family dies.

His words are a slow-simmering poison, spearing through her like shards of glass. Electric pulses in hues of alabaster and arctic blue shiver all around them like lightning in a thunderstorm as the war rages on in the skies above, striking through the darkness with an echoing scream, illuminating his sunken, ghostly features amidst the shadowed recesses of the Sith fortress, while thousands of cloaked figures chant in a sinister tongue, praising their leader, the Sith Eternal.

Rey stands before him, the architect of their bloodline, faced with an impossible choice: strike him down, inherit the Empire and the Final Order fleet, and allow the Sith to rise, allow herself to become a vessel for ancient evil…or, allow the monster who murdered her parents to live, and risk losing everything and everyone she has come to love, knowing she could have saved them, could have put a stop to this, could have won the war in favor of the Resistance. But at what cost?

Rey deliberates, gaze cast to the skylight in the serrated mouth of the cavern's ceiling, a flurry of explosions and bursts of light reflected in her eyes. Her friends and family are all up there, and they're vastly outnumbered. Survival is a shot in the dark. Hope rushes out of her like the exhale of a sob.

And then a familiar voice calls out to her—

Hope is like the sun. If you only believe in it when you can see it, you'll never make it through the night.

And the Force bond flares to life.

By the glow of Luke's saber and a storm of blaster fire, Rey sees him, standing at the opposite end of the underground chamber. He's beaten and bruised, deep red cuts skating across his lips and cheekbones, jagged lacerations and scorch marks emblazoned in the fabric of his black tunic, but he's here. He'd traveled across the galaxy to an uncharted dark world just to find her, to protect her, to fight alongside her, just as Rey had always hoped he would, just as she had seen in her vision all those many months ago.

Ben, she sighs through the bond, and feels his heart skip a beat. Tears sting the corners of her eyes, breath held aloft in the space between them as her lips twitch into a tentative smile. Hope, like the sun, rises in Ben Solo's eyes. For a moment, time stills, just for them. And then—

Bombs detonate in the sky up above them, strobing flashes of blue and white illuminating the masked faces of the Knights of Ren; once his kin, now his adversaries, surrounding him in a deadly circle, flexing their weapons. He's fought so hard to get here, taken out his fair share of combatants with little more than a well-aimed blaster rifle, but it's no match for a cult of highly-skilled Force users. He needs a proper weapon, one that can deflect as well as strike down. Whether by foresight or sheer luck, at Luke's insistence, Rey had brought two.

A positively mad, magnificent idea unfurls in his mind, and Ben channels it through the bond. It's insane, entirely ludicrous. The odds of it actually working are—

Never tell me the odds.

The echo of his father's memory sung through Ben's voice ripples across the bond, and Rey smiles fondly.

Do you trust me?

Ben's eyes search hers, silently pleading for her permission, for her faith in him. Rey stills, and then, ever so subtly, tilts her head in assent, turning back to face Palpatine with renewed resolve. Mind flitting back to the memory of Snoke's throne room, Rey summons the same dedication to pretense and trickery that Ben had employed upon his former master, just moments before he'd struck him down in her defense.

Rey raises the saber above her head, feels the heat of its brilliant blue light radiate between her shoulder blades, and holds her breath. With a delicate brush of fingertips ghosting across the palm of her hand, Rey feels the hilt of the legacy lightsaber slip from her grasp, and watches with starstruck wonder as it rematerializes in Ben's steady hands.

A collective hush falls over the Knights of Ren, waves of reverence and fear spiking their Force signatures as they stumble backwards. Their momentary hesitation is all the advantage Ben needs. Channeling his father's insouciant charm, Ben merely offers them a casual shrug of his shoulders, before lunging forward and felling them with a mastery of intricate strikes and parries. At the opposite end of the chamber, Rey dispatches Leia's lightsaber from the back of her utility belt, and battles back a swarm of crimson-cloaked sovereign protectors.

In a wild waltz of azure lights, the two of them cross the distance of the cavernous citadel, forging a path to one another, tugged by the impenetrable heartstring of their bond, until all that separates them is an exhale's span of steps, euphoric disbelief mirrored in each other's eyes, hardly daring to believe that only hours before, they'd been fighting on opposite sides.

There's so much she wants to say to him, a thousand different questions and declarations poised on the tip of her tongue, but the timing is cruel, the circumstances merciless. All that stands between Rey and her long-awaited happy ending is this malevolent menace that's been lurking in the shadows, lying in wait, lulling the galaxy into a false sense of security in their short-lived era of peace. But maybe, with Ben by her side, the two of them actually have a fighting chance. The glow of Luke's and Leia's bright blue sabers envelops them as they turn to face their shared enemy, a determined set in their eyes.

The expression on Palpatine's face sours at the sight of them.

"Stand together, die together," he exclaims, knocking the weapons out of their hands and bringing them both to their knees as he drags them forward with a power matched only by Snoke. A surge of life Force energy bursts from out of the center of their chests, crackling like a live wire around the gnarled, grotesque stumps of Palpatine's fingertips. The Emperor watches with morbid fascination as they slowly start to stitch themselves back together, fingernails regrowing where there had previously been fractured bone.

"The life Force of your bond…a dyad in the Force. A power like life itself, unseen for generations," Palpatine muses, a manic glint of mirth dancing behind his eyes as they shift from an eerie opalescent white to the haunting hue of hellfire.

"And now, the power of two restores the One True Emperor."

A violent burst of blinding light erupts from out of the hearts of the Emperor's Force-bound captives, siphoning a torrent of life Force energy, exploiting the strength of their unique bond for his own revival and restoration. The more power he summons, the stronger he becomes, no longer reliant on the mechanical puppet strings suspending him above the barbed throne forged only for the Sith Eternal.

And that's when they realize that this must have been Palpatine's master plan all along; to bring the dyad together, and then bring them both to their knees. This self-serving demon would never willingly sacrifice himself, allow someone else to rise in his place. He had orchestrated all of this for the sole purpose of making himself stronger. The truth of it spills from his Force signature like a gleeful villain waxing poetic about his cunning plan.

He'd known about their bond from the very beginning, watched its timeline unfold as he'd traveled through the World Between Worlds. That was how he had managed to return; plucked from his untimely death by one of his loyal followers, and dragged into the netherworld, into a mystical realm that exists everywhere all at once, connecting portals throughout all of time and space. There, he had witnessed the birth of their unrivaled connection, had seen what needed to be done in order to cultivate and sustain it.

He needed them to develop powerful emotional attachments to one another; the stronger the emotional bond, the stronger the Force bond. He needed to break them both down, to take everything they ever cherished away from them, so that all they would have left, in the end, was each other. He needed to make them hurt, needed to make them want, needed their driving force to be, above all else, a desperate desire for companionship, to find someone who would understand them in a way no one else ever could. And after all, who else could ever hope to truly see them, than the one who held the other half of their soul?

He had hunted down Rey's mother and father and forced them into hiding, into making the heartbreaking decision to abandon her to the wastelands of Jakku, deluding themselves into thinking that they were doing the right thing, that she would be safe there, that no harm would ever come to her as long as she was kept hidden from Palpatine. And then, for good measure, he had murdered them, leaving Rey with nothing but the memory of their anguished screams.

He had haunted Ben Solo his entire life, played the role of every villainous voice Ben had ever heard inside his head, whispering lies in the dead of night, convincing him that he was unloved and unworthy, a broken, twisted thing, a monster to be feared, feeding into the steadily brewing anxiety and abandonment Ben had felt growing up with a mother and father who were either absent for long stretches of time, or at each other's throats, married more to their jobs than to each other; into the hurt and confusion he'd felt when they'd sent him away to train at his uncle's academy, when all he'd ever wanted was to follow in his father's footsteps and become a pilot, not a Jedi Knight; into the shock and betrayal he'd felt at the sight of his uncle, master, and mentor poised to murder him in his sleep, motivated by fear of the potential of his bloodline, a dark secret that had been kept from Ben all his life.

He poisoned and corrupted Ben's mind until the only choice Ben felt he had left was to run away from it all, to embrace the darkness brewing inside him and become the monster they always feared he would, to bury Ben Solo in the cindering ruins of the temple on Yavin 4 and masquerade as Kylo Ren, serving a new master, one Ben had thought had been his guiding voice all this time.

But Snoke was merely an illusion, a shadow puppet created for the sole purpose of tormenting Ben Solo, molding him into the crooked shape of Kylo Ren. It was Palpatine who had been pulling the strings all along; Palpatine who had set Luke Skywalker's Jedi Praxeum ablaze and let the blame fall on Ben Solo; Palpatine who had cloaked himself as Snoke as a means to meddle and rise through the ranks without risking the revelation of his true identity.

With Snoke as his mouthpiece, Palpatine derived great pleasure in provoking the heir-apparent to Darth Vader, filling his head with false praise and promises of grandeur and then cutting him down in the same cruel stroke, keeping him in a constant state of turmoil and conflicted vulnerability, manipulating him into sacrificing everything to prove his worth, all the while ridiculing him for his inability to live up to the legend of his grandfather.

Ben had spent his whole life living in Vader's shadow, and neither in darkness nor in light could he escape it; haunted by his family's fear and paranoia that he was destined to become their worst nightmare, the greatest evil the galaxy had ever seen, and yet taunted by his master's bitter disappointment that he likely never would.

But it wasn't weakness, or foolishness, or any number of vicious lies Snoke used to torment and manipulate Ben that prevented him from fulfilling his destiny. Kylo Ren would never follow in Vader's footsteps, because, at his core, Ben was nothing like him. While Anakin Skywalker had been seduced by the dark side, Ben Solo had been imprisoned by it, forced into believing that it was where he belonged. But no matter how much pain he endured, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, there was always that small, stubborn part of him that clung to the light.

Forgive me. I feel it again. The pull to the light.

This was key, for Ben's inner conflict would play a vital role in establishing an emotional bond between both halves of the dyad. After all, there needed to be enough light left in him for Rey to want to fight for him, and Ben, who had been made to feel like a monster all his life, undeserving of love or redemption, needed proof that he was worth fighting for, that someone still believed in him.

The broken boy and the scavenger girl who spent her whole life fixing broken things, searching for hidden treasure in the wreckage…how could she resist?

In the shadows, the Sith Eternal waited and watched as the mystical bond of the fated dyad grew, as the two of them shared their darkest secrets, confided in each other, assured one another that they weren't alone, now that they had each other. Once an emotional bond had been established, Palpatine needed to be certain of its potency, to test its resolve, to solidify their dedication and loyalty to one another. He instructed Ben to strike Rey down; once as Snoke, and again as Sidious. Time and time again, Ben passed Palpatine's tests, proving that he would forsake everything to safeguard his other half. And Rey, in spite of everything, would never stop fighting to bring Ben Solo back to the light.

Through Snoke, Palpatine explained away Ben and Rey's budding Force bond by taking credit for bridging their minds, fabricating a web of lies so that neither of them would feel compelled to dig deeper and discover the true nature of its source, become powerful in their own right, and use it against him. He wanted them strong enough to restore him to his former glory, but weak enough to not know the strength of their own power and rise to claim it.

But it was all a lie, for nothing but the Force itself could have the power to forge such a bond. Their connection had always been there from the very beginning, woven into the fabric of time, softly simmering beneath the surface.

It was a wild, untamed thing, stirring to life whenever it desired, connecting their minds with mirrored streams of thought, with memories and daydreams about people they'd never met and places they could swear they'd never been, blurring the lines between his reality and hers as fleeting foreign emotions swelled inside their chests, brought on by the happiness, sorrow, or anger of the other.

Inexplicably drawn to one another; one soul split between two bodies, calling out to its other half from across the stars.

A Resistance soldier at her core, Rey would not rest until she saw the Empire fall. In time, she would journey to Exegol to confront Palpatine, and Ben, vowing to protect her, would follow. It had been Palpatine's plan all along, to lure them both here under false pretenses, with empty promises wrapped in guilt and provocation.

He promised Ben an army more powerful than anything he could ever hope to build, in exchange for Rey's life, knowing full well that Ben would never sacrifice her. He promised Rey an inheritance of the Final Order fleet, thus ending the war and finally putting a stop to the bloodshed of her friends and family, knowing full well that she would never strike him down in anger and allow the Sith to rise.

All of this he knew full well, for it had already come to pass. He had seen their entwined destinies unravel in the portals connecting the World Between Worlds, had watched as his future self siphoned the life Force of their bond, his own power growing beyond anything he had ever thought possible.

A shadow of his former self, barely clinging to life, feeding off the life sustaining Force energy of his faithful followers, Palpatine knew that the only force strong enough to revive him was the power of a dyad. It didn't matter how many people or planets he destroyed, how many lives he ruined; all that mattered was his own rise to power, and Palpatine was willing to do just about anything to see it so.

He had poisoned the well of Ben Solo's life, slashed and burned his ties to his family, and shrouded him in solitude, self-hatred, and grief. He had used Ben's lineage against him, manipulated him into believing that the darkness in his bloodline was not just an inevitability, but his rightful destiny, and then spent years convincing him that he would never be worthy of it.

He had murdered Rey's parents for the sole purpose of making certain she grew up all alone, desperately aching for a family, for a sense of belonging. He had manipulated Rey's desire to belong to a family name, and had corrupted it, making it a vile, abhorrent thing. What a cruel twist of fate, to swear allegiance to the light, only to discover that you were sired from the deepest vein of darkness. She would rather be a nobody than a Palpatine.

But perhaps even that had been a lie, another form of manipulation.

Perhaps Rey wasn't actually a Palpatine, after all.

Maybe she really was just a nobody from nowhere.

And maybe that was okay.

Maybe it didn't matter.

Maybe, regardless of the legacies attached to their names and the expectations built up over the history of their bloodlines, Ben and Rey could choose their own paths.

With the very last reserve of their strength, they reach across the bond and call out to one another, promising years in the span of seconds, a lifetime of second chances to make things right. The last thing Rey remembers is the spark of hope in Ben's eyes, the sound of her name sung so sweetly from his lips, before her vision fades to black, and the two of them collapse, exhausted, onto the hard stone ground.

"Look what you have made," the Emperor marvels as he paces toward them, a thousand terrible voices singing praises for their newly restored master.

Cold, cruel laughter echoes throughout the darkened chamber, hauntingly familiar, like a sinister lullaby, and suddenly, Ben Solo is a child again, struggling to shut out the voices inside his head. He slips in and out of consciousness, fighting against a wave of darkness that threatens to overtake him as the agony of siphoned energy finally subsides and he's left with a dull, hollow ache.

Sweat clings to his neck and forehead like the peak of a fever, mingled with rashes of drying blood, dirt, and debris, the cold, rough stone of the cavern floor digging into the bruised muscles of his back as he struggles to roll over onto his side, to peer over at Rey, his first and only thought to make sure that she's safe. Panic prickles at the back of his neck at the sight of her prone form; so small, so still.

In desperation, he reaches out to her, feels her feebly stirring through their bond, enveloped in a cloud of fear and pain, barely clinging to consciousness, and an unbridled fury surges through him at the thought of all that Rey has been forced to endure.

Fueled by the urge to silence this wretched demon who had haunted and destroyed three generations of his family, Ben channels every last drop of anger and resentment into enough energy to push himself up off the ground, staggering to his knees, a defiant glare in his eyes. But before Ben can figure out his next move, the Emperor catches sight of him, his upper lip curling in disgust. With a casual flick of his wrist, he lifts Ben up off of his feet, suspending him in mid-air; frozen, powerless as he struggles against his invisible restraints.

"As once I fell, so falls the last Skywalker," Palpatine growls menacingly, deciding he's had well enough of this meddlesome family foiling his plans and turning traitor to the dark side. After all, he'd already gotten what he wanted from them; there was very little reason left to keep them both alive.

With a force like a punch to the solar plexus, Palpatine propels Ben backward, sending him soaring through the air, breath rushing out of his lungs as he careens over the edge of a fissure in the cavern floor, the sound of his ribs giving way to a sickening crack as he collides with a row of jagged rocks ranging like crooked teeth in the mouth of a monster, before he's swallowed up by the swirling chasm of its vibrant blue depths.

The agony of Ben's fall rips through Rey's chest, lighting up every nerve ending in her body like a live wire, startling her awake. With an immense amount of effort, she rolls herself onto her back, eyes fluttering open just in time to watch Palpatine funnel a torrent of Force lightning into the sky, burning up circuits and sending waves of Resistance fighters plummeting to their deaths as they lose control and crash into the planet's unforgiving surface.

Tears pool in the corners of her eyes, bursts of light dancing across her irises like deadly fireworks as Rey gazes through the cracks in the cavern's ceiling, helpless against the crushing realization that her friends and family are dying in the sky above her, the promise of a future with the one she'd always hoped would come back to the light lost to the void of a treacherous tunnel in the heart of the Sith fortress.

That she's alone.

That she's lost everything.

She feels the will to carry on slip through her fingertips like sand in the desert.

If she should perish now, it will all have been for nothing.

The Jedi will fall.

The Sith will rise.

And the fate of the galaxy falls into the hands of the Final Order.

She should never have come here, should never have allowed the Resistance to follow her to this awful place. She'd lead her friends and family straight into a trap, effectively snuffing out the last spark of hope for peace across the galaxy.

She's more alone now than she'd ever been on Jakku, more alone than she would ever have been in her self-inflicted exile on Ahch-To. She should have just stayed there, closed herself off from the Force, followed in Luke Skywalker's footsteps, and—

Remember what I told you, Rey, Luke's voice calls out to her, crystal clear amidst the chaos in the sky, grounding her.

I was wrong to run away.

Fear is what kept me in isolation.

Confronting fear is the destiny of a Jedi.

This is your destiny.

This is your fight.

But we will always be here to guide you.

A thousand generations of Jedi live on through you.

Through both of you.

You are never alone.

Another voice, one she'd come to know so intimately over the past year, calls out to her from a memory she thought she'd buried at the back of her mind. A deep, delicate hum, rewriting years of aching loneliness with a single promise.

You're not alone.

Neither are you.

Clinging to the very last glimmer of hope left within her, Rey closes her eyes, and calls upon the Jedi of ages past.

Be with me.

The world around her stills, moving at the pace of seconds stretched out over eons, the air filled with an ancient magic as old as time itself. In her mind's eye, there is balance; an inky black expanse of endless night sky scattered with a sea of glittering, luminescent white stars; powerful light shining bright against powerful darkness.

Be with me.

In the distance, a hand surges from the depths of a fissure in the cavern floor, finding footholds where there had previously been none. With a strength that is not his own, Ben Solo lifts himself over the edge of the cliff face, and staggers to his feet. Broken, beaten, and bruised, blood seeping from slashes in his tunic, he makes his way back toward her, half walking, half crawling along the rough, cold stone floor, until he's closed the distance between them.

Be with me, she says.

Always, a voice calls out to her; calm, kind, and wonderfully familiar.

Rey opens her eyes, and a gasp catches in the back of her throat at the sight of Ben standing beside her, offering her his hand. Such a simple, tender thing, and yet the weight it holds could pull planets from their orbit.

A mosaic of conflicting memories flashes across her mind.

A blood red throne room littered with fallen praetorian guards and the scorched remains of a former master, while a boy with the shadow of a monster and a crackling red saber as unstable as his temper pleads for her to kill the past and join him in leading a new empire.

Dark clouds rolling over the sun-kissed deserts of Pasaana as he reaches out to her in desperation, fear curled around every word of his warning divulging Palpatine's nefarious intentions for her.

Slashing through the charred remains of Vader's mask as they battle through their bond from the pristine, blinding white of his private quarters to the snowy landscape of Kijimi; confronting him in the hanger bay of a Star Destroyer amidst a fleet of armed Stormtroopers as he praises her power and offers her a hand sheathed in cold, coarse leather, fooling himself into believing that this was the only way that he could protect her, that striking down Palpatine and claiming the throne for themselves was the only path left for them both to take.

The spark of crimson against cerulean as the two of them spar across the sunken wasteland of the old Death Star on Kef Bir, claimed by crashing ocean waves, skin slick with sweat and salty sea air. A moment of anger as she'd driven the blade of his own saber into his torso, and the overwhelming swell of sorrow and regret that had followed in its wake. An act of mercy. A confession. Healing wounds, both old and new.

I offered you my hand once. You wanted to take it. Why didn't you?

The hilt of a crackling red cross-guard sinking to the depths of the ocean, thrown from the hands of a man stepping back through time and becoming the person he should have been all along.

I did want to take your hand. Ben's hand.

This time, Rey doesn't hesitate.

The palm of his hand is soft against her fingertips, his embrace tentative and gentle as his other hand comes to rest at the small of her back, keeping her steady as he helps her to her feet. Together, they summon their inherited sabers, Ben wielding Luke's, Rey wielding Leia's, and turn to face their adversary.

Seething hatred burns in the Emperor's eyes as he takes in the sight of them, vowing to destroy the two of them once and for all as he rises from his throne.

"Let your death be the final word in the story of rebellion," he sneers, channeling a barrage of Force lightning at the pair of them, his sunken features contorting with rage as their sabers deflect it.

"You are nothing!" Palpatine shouts, and the echo of another memory whispers through the bond.

You come from nothing.

You are nothing.

…but not to me.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rey watches Ben wince and wrinkle his nose in embarrassment. Over the past year, he had thought about that pivotal moment, and all the things he wished he could have said and done differently, far more times than he'd care to admit.

And therein lies the slightly less tragic, unsung curse of the Solo and Skywalker bloodlines; a legacy of charming fools struggling to navigate the rocky road of romance, tactless wordsmiths who say all the wrong things with the best of intentions. He had taken something he'd intended to be sweet, and had made it sound callous, and no amount of apologies or explanations would ever suffice.

Not your finest moment, Rey muses. But I understood what you were trying to say.

And despite the chaos whirling all around them, Ben can't help but smile, thinking how lucky the men of his family were to have met Padmé, Leia, and Rey.

The Emperor, none the wiser of their silent exchange, mistakes Ben's mirth for mockery, and his fury swells.

"You are nothing," he spits venomously. "A scavenger girl and the failed scion of rebel scum are no match for the power in me. I am all the Sith."

Warmth like sunlight over a frozen tundra sings through the bond as the comforting weight of at least a dozen sets of hands, the very same that had lifted Ben over the edge of the cliff and given Rey the strength to stand and fight, come to rest upon their shoulders.

One by one, the ghostly silhouettes of Master Yoda, Mace Windu, Adi Gallia, Luminara Unduli, Aayla Secura, Ahsoka Tano, Kanan Jarrus, Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, and Luke Skywalker materialize to form an army standing strong behind Ben and Rey, speaking words of wisdom and encouragement.

These are your final steps. Rise, and take them.

Bring back the balance.

In the night, find the light.

You are not alone.

Alone, never have you been.

Every Jedi who ever lived lives in you.

The Force surrounds you.

Let it guide you.

Feel the Force flowing through you.

Let it lift you.

We stand with you.

In the heart of a Jedi lies their strength.

Rise in the Force.

Rise, Ben.

Rise, Rey.

The Force will be with you both, always.

"I am all the Sith," the Emperor proclaims, unleashing a violent wave of Force lightning that surges toward them like the flames of a wildfire.

Twin smiles curve across their lips as they cross their sabers over each other's hearts, protecting one another, stronger together than they'd ever been on their own.

"And we are all the Jedi."

With the combined strength and support of Jedi from beyond the veil coursing through them, embracing them through the life Force of their bond, Ben and Rey deflect the Emperor's deadly currents, striking him down, not in anger or revenge, but in defense, using his own corrupt power against him.

For the very first time, genuine terror flashes across Palpatine's eyes as the might of the electrical currents flowing from his fingertips becomes ever more wild and unsteady. One final thrust with the hilts of their sabers forces the cascade of lightning to double back, rebounding on its caster, his sallow, sunken skin peeling away from his skull like ashes in a fire, burned from the inside out by the power of his own poison.

The sheer force of it ripples through the massive underground cavern; statues built in honor of ancient Sith lords crumble and turn to rubble, shards of heavy rock piling onto the surrounding crowds of the Emperor's most faithful followers, crushing them under the weight of their own fortress. Dust settles into the air like thick clouds of smoke as echoes of victory in the sky above fill the deafening silence left in the wake of destruction.

Amidst the chaos, Ben reaches out to Rey, clinging to her Force signature like a lifeline. Together, they turn to face one another, searching for the faint silhouette of a familiar face in the misty haze of the crumbling ruins. Eyes alight in the arctic glow of their twin sabers. Breath falling in heavy gusts from their chests. Bruises and blood stains in hues of violet and crimson blossoming across the swell of their lips and the delicate crown of their heads. Dirt and debris licking every curve of their boots and tunics. A little worse for wear, but here and together and alive.

A tentative smile tugs at the corners of Rey's lips as her eyes lock onto his, exhausted but triumphant. He's about to return it in kind, lips poised on the edge of the very first smile to grace his features in nearly a decade, when the light fades from Rey's eyes, and she collapses, the strain of channeling the ancient Jedi, of defeating the Emperor, of having the life Force siphoned out of her, too much to bear.

Even Ben, with two decades' worth of training and dedication to both the light and dark sides of the Force, feels the weight of it crushing down on him, threatening to swallow him whole. But in that moment, he finds he hardly cares, his focus on Rey and Rey alone, fighting through the unrelenting pull to unconsciousness, stifling a groan and stomaching the stabbing ache of his broken ribs as he rushes to her side, catching her before she hits the ground. He sinks to his knees, gathering her into his arms.

Panic jolts through his chest like an electric shock as he stares into her eyes; wide open, empty, lifeless, still. He checks for a pulse, rubbing gentle circles against the palm of her hand to let her know that he's here, that he's got her, that he isn't going anywhere without her.

But when he presses his fingertips to the delicate plane of her wrist, he feels nothing, an eerie stillness in lieu of a steady beat, and his heart drops into the pit of his stomach, a sob caught in the back of his throat as he pulls her close and hugs her to his chest, burying his face into the curve of her shoulder, silently begging the ancient Jedi, the maker, the unnamed gods, anyone who will listen, to save her.

And then, by some miracle, he feels her stirring through their bond. Suspended between life and death, hanging on by a thread, tethered to him. The other half of his soul. Two that are one. A dyad in the Force. A power like life itself, unseen for generations. If there's anything strong enough to save her, it's the power of their bond. He thinks back to what Rey had done for him in the aftermath of their battle across the sunken Death Star, and realizes what must be done now, what he must sacrifice, in order to ensure that Rey survives.

It's one thing to heal near-fatal wounds while the afflicted still clings to the land of the living, and another entirely to bring them back from the edge of death once they've already begun to cross over. Saving Rey will take all the strength that Ben has left, draining him of the very last of his life Force.

There's no hesitation, no weighing his options, no second thought spared for his own survival. With a deep, shaky breath that feels like a blade between his lungs, Ben closes his eyes, quells his racing thoughts, and presses a gentle hand to her torso, mirroring the way she had held him in his memory amidst the crashing ocean waves.

He isn't certain when he'll fade, or if she can even hear him, but he'll be damned if he leaves this world without making damn certain she knows how deeply she's adored, pouring every ounce of affection, every word left unspoken, every promise and declaration he's ever wanted to propose, into their bond, hoping that it will reach her somehow, even if it ends up feeling like it was all just a dream.

Concentrating all of his efforts, Ben allows his life Force energy to flow through her, healing her, stitching broken bones, bruises, and wounds back together until she's healthy and whole, until finally, her torso expands beneath his shaking hands as the breath of life rushes back into her lungs. A gentle hand half the size of his own comes to rest atop his, and his heart skyrockets into his throat, hardly daring to believe that it had actually worked, that he'd finally managed to do one thing right.

• • •

Drowning. That's what it had felt like. Sinking to the fathomless depths of an ocean made from starlight and dark matter, desperately chasing sunlight. And then—

Warmth.

Not the burn of a Jakku summer or the swelter of a jungle moon, but soft, gentle, and enduring, curling around every inch of her skin, tingling in her fingertips, swimming through the channels of her heart, giving her the strength to kick to the surface, to rise.

The last thing Rey remembers is standing across from him in a haze of ruined relics, and now she's waking up in his arms. Gentle hands cradle the space between her shoulder blades and the curves of her hips, and, malapropos though it might be, Rey can't help the prickle of a blush that blooms beneath her cheekbones at the startling realization that Ben's hand nearly covers her entire torso. It makes her yearn for something she can't put into words.

It's all rather poetic in a way she isn't used to, in a way that doesn't quite suit the narrative or the tumultuous turn of events. How had she ended up here, held aloft above the cold stone ground in his loving embrace? Had she fallen? Had he caught her? She tries to piece it all together, sifting through the jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings coursing through his mind, spilling out into their bond.

His Force signature spikes with conflicting bursts of fear and euphoria, relief and sorrow, as the image of her lifeless body hangs in the balance between them, coupled with the look of hopeful disbelief on his tear-streaked face as he stares into her eyes, and all at once, a little too late, Rey understands.

She feels him fade from their bond like static after a lost frequency, the light flickering from his eyes like dying candlelight. Panic swims through her veins like poison as he topples backward, and she moves forward as if by instinct, catching him before he hits the ground.

Rey hovers above him, gently cradling the base of his crown in the palm of her hand, fingertips curled around a sea of wild jet black hair, her other hand splayed across his chest in search of a heartbeat, desperately clinging to the hope that he'll come back to her, just as he had before, just like he always does. He has to. She can't lose him now, not after everything they've been through, not now that she's finally just gotten him back. Their story doesn't end here.

She remembers it all so vividly. The gentle lull of ocean waves lapping against moss-covered stone. The spirited symphony of a thunderstorm drumming against the thatched roof of a hut. Rain-soaked clothes clinging to her skin, chilling her to the bone. Firelight dancing in the darkened eyes of an enemy turned kindred spirit. The ghost of his fingertips reaching across the stars to press against her own. A vision of the future. His. Hers. Theirs. Just the shape of it, but clear.

She was promised a future, years stretching out across a hundred different landscapes, from snow-swept mountains to verdant forests, to binary sunsets on distant desert worlds, to the endless expanse of the cosmos captured through a thick layer of transparisteel in the cockpit of a hand-me-down Corellian freighter, the whole of the galaxy at their fingertips, ripe for adventure and exploration.

Finding home on a world that's greener than she'd ever thought possible, hearts soaring as they race down winding pathways, through fields of wildflowers, and lush wooded forests.

Taking vows on the terrace of a fairy tale castle wreathed in ivy and perennial vines, brushstrokes of blood orange, grapefruit, and gold dancing across the surface of a sapphire lake as the sun sinks beneath misty mountains. Hushed whispers and dulcet promises, smiles that make their faces ache. Ethereal grace, swathed in ivory silk and lace, fragrant flowers in shades of lilac and rose woven throughout her chestnut hair.

Entwined beneath a canopy under a sea of stars, the sound of his name on her lips in a breathless moan; hers, forever on the tip of his tongue, tucked into the shell of her ear as he kisses her goodnight and curls around her each morning, never letting a single moment go by where she doesn't know how deeply she's adored.

Tears pooling in his eyes as he sinks down onto his knees and presses gentle kisses to her belly, in awe of the life they've created together. Laughter bubbling up inside her chest as she watches a set of giggling, vivacious twins trailing after their father, begging him for another round of sparring with lightsabers fashioned out of tree branches.

Flecks of grey streaking their hair as they turn to one another and smile, fading into the Force together as one, in their own time, on their own terms.

A lifetime of infinite potential, slipping through her fingertips as Ben's Force signature fades to a feeble whisper.

Be with me, Rey calls out to him through the last lingering remnants of their bond. Please, Ben. Just be with me. That's all I want.

• • •

Nearly one standard year prior, Leia Organa wakes with a vision foretelling the fate of her fallen son, and a bone-deep chill she hadn't felt for nearly thirty years washes over her.

She had sensed it only once before, believed it to be an inevitability if she continued to follow down the Jedi path, and had subsequently abandoned her studies. Back then, it had merely been a feeling, murky and unclear. Now, it's sharp and defined, every detail coming together with perfect clarity: Ben Solo will return to the light, forging a path to redemption, culminating in his death at the hands of a Palpatine.

But that's impossible, the logical side of Leia's brain insists. Sheev Palpatine is dead. My father killed him to protect my brother.

Unless…

The vision lasts barely longer than a few seconds, but its potency is enduring; so vivid, and so real, that it almost feels like a memory, rather than a glimpse into the future. Swimming before her mind's eye is the haunting image of her son, kneeling on the cold stone floor of a darkened cavern, sobbing as he clutches Rey's lifeless form to his chest, begging for someone to help him save her, a determined set to his eyes as he places his hand across her torso and allows healing energy to flow through her, giving her the very last of his life Force to ensure that she survives.

And all at once, Leia understands. Her son will not be struck down by an enemy to their bloodline. His death will be a self-sacrifice for someone he loves, for his other half, for Rey—

…at the hands of a Palpatine.

Leia's hands begin to shake. All-consuming terror cuts through the cloud of grief and heartache that had overtaken her at the revelation that she is destined to lose not one but two people she cherishes beyond everything in a single stroke, and her focus zeroes in on one vital detail.

Rey.

The young girl who had become something of an adoptive daughter to her, heir apparent to the villain that had haunted and manipulated her family for three generations. Betrayal settles into the pit of her stomach like poison. It's irrational, she knows, but she can't help it.

I need a teacher, Rey had confessed as they set up camp beneath a sunlit canopy in the forests of Ajan Kloss. Her smile had been shy, tentative, like she had been working up the nerve to pose this question for quite some time. I was wondering if, perhaps, it could be you.

Without even thinking, Leia had agreed.

How very foolish she had been.

She finds Rey in the middle of a clearing at daybreak the following morning, heels tucked beneath her thighs in a meditative pose just as her former master had taught her, sitting cross-legged on the moss-covered stump of a recently fallen tree. Eyes closed, shoulders rising and falling with each steady breath, smile radiant against the rising sun kissing brand new freckles across the bridge of her nose.

"Rey," she hesitates, conviction dying in the back of her throat, tangled in a vicious string of words that had been racing through her mind from the very moment she had discovered the truth of Rey's parentage.

I know what you are.

I can't be your teacher.

I want you to leave and never return.

At the sound of her name, Rey's eyes flutter open, and all at once, Leia is back on Chandrila, staring into the bright, hopeful eyes of her son. Back when he'd been whole, when he'd been happy. A simpler time, when the worst of her worries was catching him sneaking onto the Falcon in the dead of night, legs swinging several inches above the ground as he'd climbed into the pilot's seat and pretended he was soaring through hyperspace, just like his father. Her little starfighter. Her only hope.

Back before the looming threat of the First Order cut deeper into the time she used to spend with her family, and a lonely little boy had clung to his mother's robes on her way out the door to yet another function in the name of the New Republic. Before the walls shook with the worst of her fights with Han, followed by weeks, sometimes even months, of his absence.

Before he'd woken screaming from nightmares with the echoes of a sinister voice inside his head, calling him to the dark side. Before her sanity had reached the end of its limit, and in sheer desperation, she had shipped him off to train with Luke, convinced that she was doing the right thing, that she was doing this to protect him, that he would be safe in her brother's care.

I should have never sent him away. That's when I lost him. That's when I lost both of you.

She remembers the look on his face as he'd boarded the ship to Yavin 4, the way he'd bolted back down the boarding ramp and thrown himself into her arms, begging her not to send him away; the way his eyes filled with tears as he watched the Falcon become a blip on the horizon, dreams of becoming a pilot shattered as his father left on yet another adventure traveling the galaxy without him; years of loneliness hardening his features from hopeful and bittersweet to disenchanted and resentful every time tentative plans to visit him at the academy fell through.

All that time spent wondering if his parents had ever truly loved him, or if he was just a disappointment in their eyes, a troublesome inconvenience they couldn't wait to be rid of. By the time Luke's temple burned, Ben's deep-seeded fears had already taken root, Snoke's cruel whispers giving purchase to a decade's worth of insecurities. Luke's moment of weakness had merely been the final twist of the knife.

Anger flares inside her at the memory of Luke's confession, hands balling into fists at her sides, only to be swiftly snuffed out by the aching realization that what she had done hadn't been any better. They had both allowed fear to drive their actions, terrified that Ben was destined to follow in the footsteps of his grandfather, breathing new life into a corrupt regime they had just spent years dismantling.

And therein lies the problem; the weight of a dozen different worlds had been placed on Ben's shoulders before he'd even taken his first breath, the fate of his future presupposed by his family's past.

Son of war heroes, his mother a princess in two different veins of royalty, his father a swaggering smuggler with a mark on his head and a wealth of debt to his name, nephew to a Jedi legend, grandson of a beloved queen and a powerful Sith; an inheritance of reverence and infamy.

And a darkness, an ancient evil, lurking in the shadows, targeting him from birth, creeping into his dreams like a hurricane across the landscape of his mind.

The poor boy never stood a chance.

As Leia looks at Rey, she sees the eyes of her son staring back at her; bright, bold, and full of hope, smile kind and gentle, a sense of peace and belonging radiating from her Force signature as she eagerly awaits for Leia to teach her all she knows. A scavenger girl from nowhere, turned Resistance warrior, turned Jedi apprentice; more Skywalker in spirit than Palpatine in blood.

Old fears and prejudices Leia had clung to all her life fall to the wayside, her mind made up. Never again would she allow fear to control her, to let something as inconsequential as heritage determine the strength of someone's heart. She would not make the same mistake with Rey that she and Luke had made with Ben. If there was any chance at all to give them both a shot at a better life, she was willing to take it.

"I wonder if I might borrow those texts my brother left with you," Leia says with an affectionate smile. "Once I've reacquainted myself, we can begin your training."

In truth, she's curious about one passage in particular, memory drifting back to her brother's half-crazed ramblings as he'd regaled her with tales of ancient Jedi legend and lore. Sure enough, she finds his notes, pages and pages of insight and findings, scribbled in the margins in a hasty scrawl.

A world between worlds; a realm that exists between all of time and space, connecting Ahch-To and Exegol, two planets cloaked within the Unknown Regions; powerful light and powerful darkness. A place where time could be rewritten, where even death could be undone.

A symphony of night life echoes in the distance as Leia closes the text and clutches it to her heart, gaze cast toward the sky, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She gives a resolute nod, the path ahead of her clear. She will train Rey as her apprentice. She will allow for the events of her son's redemption to unfold. This time, she is not afraid to let him die, because she's going to find a way to bring him back.

• • •

It's with a heavy heart and pang of panic that Leia watches her apprentice take off in her husband's old ship on a mission to finish what her brother never could, all too aware that Rey's search for Exegol will end in death. She knows she must allow for this to happen, that every piece of the puzzle, however unfavorable, must fall perfectly into place to ensure that her vision is fulfilled.

So she does what she has to, puts on a brave face and an encouraging smile, and passes her family's legacy saber onto her protégé, despite Rey's protests that she has not yet earned it.

For what she knows may well be the very last time, Leia draws the closest thing she's ever had to a daughter into a hug, and offers her the same advice she's been repeating to herself like a mantra all her life, a shield against the relentless pursuit of fear in the face of inherited darkness.

Never be afraid of who you are.

• • •

Across the galaxy, from the depths of a sunken shipwreck on an Endorian ocean moon, Leia hears her son calling out to her; not in name, but in spirit. For the first time in years, he calls her mother.

You wanted to prove to my mother that you were a Jedi, but you've proven something else. You can't go back to her now…like I can't.

Like I can't, he says, but it's all the things left unspoken that call out to her the loudest. Underneath the emotionless mask of Kylo Ren lurks the heart of her son, fighting to come back, buried under the crushing weight of remorse and resentment, convinced that after all he's done, he will never be worthy of love or forgiveness.

All he needs is a moment of clarity, a catalyst, a second chance to make the right choice.

She feels the two of them begin to duel, feels the surge of Rey's anger as Ben destroys the very artifact that she and her friends had chased across a dozen star systems and nearly died to retrieve, feels the resignation coming off of her son in waves as powerful as the ocean that surrounds them, tired of battling with her, only meeting Rey's strikes in defense, and knows that it's time.

In an effort to quell the hushed panic that falls over her fellow Resistance fighters, Leia insists that she is merely tired and in need of rest, making her way to a shrouded encampment on the outskirts of the base. There, among the serenity of rain-soaked trees and twisting vines, Leia quiets her mind, sharpens her focus, and calls out to her son.

The effect is instantaneous. At the sound of his name, wrapped in the loving embrace of his mother's voice, Ben is rendered frozen. The carefully crafted mask of Kylo Ren slips away, and in that moment, he is every bit the heartbroken little boy who had begged his mother not to send him away from home, who had begged his father to stay by his bedside as he fell asleep and protect him from the monster that haunted his dreams, who would beg them both for their forgiveness, if he wasn't convinced he was unworthy of it.

And therein lies the very reason she calls out to him now. Just his name, soft and soothing, a gentle reminder of a simple truth that has never wavered after all this time: that she is here for him, that she loves him, that he can always come back to her.

From a great distance, Leia watches in her mind's eye as he pauses, gaze cast behind him, searching for her on the horizon. Watches as he lets his saber slip from his grasp without a second thought to spare. Feels the rush of anger that courses through Rey's Force signature as she ignites the crackling crimson blade and plunges it through his torso, swiftly followed by the look of pure horror at the realization of what she's just done.

Sensing a need for guidance, Leia calls out to her wayward protégé; just her name, as she'd done for her son, her voice calm, reassuring, forgiving.

"Leia," Rey gasps, switching off the saber and tossing it to the side, eyes wide with terror as Ben's knees buckle and he sinks to the ground, his breathing labored.

Shame, guilt, and fear roll off of her in waves. She has failed her Jedi Master. She had reacted out of anger, lost sight of hope, and struck a killing blow to Leia's only son. His words creep from a darkened corner of her mind, settling over her like a chill.

The dark side is in our nature. Surrender to it.

And for a moment, she had.

But this, in truth, is all part of the plan. This was always meant to happen. Leia needs this to happen, for this is the catalyst that sparks Ben's return to the light. Living proof that he is worth saving, that the only one who ever wanted to bury Ben Solo was his monster of a former master.

Worlds away, Leia watches as Rey drops down onto her knees, places her hand across the wound she'd inflicted, and heals him. Watches as Rey rises, tears and sea salt spilling down her cheeks as she confesses that she did want to take his hand. Ben's hand. Watches the look of awestruck wonder bloom across his features as he stares after her, too preoccupied by the shock of what had just transpired between them to care that she'd just stolen his ship and left him stranded on the wastelands of the old Death Star.

For a moment, Leia is gripped by panic as Rey disappears into the black, sensing the overwhelming emotions racing through her mind. And then—

Don't worry, Luke's voice calls out to her. I know exactly where she's going. Let me focus on guiding Rey down the right path. Right now, it's your son who needs you most.

Clutching one of the few cherished relics that Han had left behind, Leia settles in to what she knows will become her deathbed, and prepares for the arduous task of Force projection, channeling not her own spirit, but the memory of another. In this crucial moment, Ben will need the forgiveness of both of his parents to know that there is hope for him yet.

• • •

He's gone mad. Flames of rebellion burn across the galaxy, and Kylo Ren chases a ghost.

Truly, it's disheartening to admit that perhaps Hux had been right, for once.

On the edge of the old Death Star, amidst crashing ocean waves at the height of their temper, Ben Solo stares into the kind, weathered face of his father, the ghost of a man he never dreamed he'd get the chance to see again. Only, he's not a ghost, not a rendered spirit of the Force; he is solid, and real, and alive—

Ben swallows against a lump in his throat at the wonderful impossibility of such a statement.

"I miss you, son," Han says with a small smile, and pain like a second stab wound tears through Ben's chest at the unnerving sincerity of those words; so kind and gentle and unearned.

Rey had asked him, once, why he had hated his father.

The truth is, he never did.

Resented him, perhaps, for allowing him to be sent away, for not fighting harder to let him stay. For disappearing, sometimes months at a time, whenever the stress of dealing with a broken marriage and an even more broken son got to be too much to handle. For all of his empty promises, every half-cocked plan giving Ben false hope that it wouldn't be long until his father came to his rescue, breaking him out of the academy in the dead of night and stealing him away in the infamous starship Ben had always hoped he would one day inherit.

He wants to be a pilot, Leia, not a Jedi.

It doesn't matter what he wants. All that matters is keeping him safe.

Funny, the coping mechanisms you develop when all your choices are taken away, convincing yourself that you never wanted it anyway, that you're far better off without it.

Han Solo. You feel like he's the father you never had. He would have disappointed you.

Blow that piece of junk out of the sky!

If you love something enough, and it hurts you, you learn to cope in any way that you can. Easier to convince yourself that you hate something than to live with the pain of never being able to have it.

But that isn't hatred. It's heartbreak.

The problem was never that Ben hated his father, it was that he loved him too much. And that was the very reason Snoke had commanded Ben to strike him down. A test, to prove his loyalty and his worth, to prove that he truly had cut all ties to his former life.

Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to. That's the only way to become who you were meant to be.

A sacrifice that split his spirit to the bone.

You have too much of your father's heart in you.

"Come home," Han tells him, like it's that simple. Like Ben is a child again, tempted with the chance to cut curfew, and learn the controls of his father's ship. Like it's a matter of heart, rather than a matter of logic. Like there isn't an ever-growing list of reasons why he can't go back to her.

And even if he could, where is home, now he's lost nearly everything and everyone he's ever loved? Moments after he'd heard his mother's voice, he'd felt her disappear from this plane of existence.

It's too late. She's gone.

"Your mother may be gone, but what she stood for, what she fought for…that's not gone," his father says, and for one glorious moment, Ben allows himself to imagine what it might be like if he were to simply run away, defect from the First Order and leave it all behind, finding home and purpose in the ranks of the Resistance, fighting for his mother's cause.

But that's…no. That's impossible. Foolish. Hopeless. Wishful thinking. After everything he's done, they'd be out of their minds to let him join. At best, he'd face exile. At worst, execution. He's done so many despicable things he wouldn't know how to even begin to atone for, a lifetime of mistakes in the span of a handful of years; his biggest regret, the untimely death of the man standing in front of him, offering him the kind of love and forgiveness he so desperately craves but knows he does not deserve.

But maybe, the spark of hope he thought he'd buried with the memory of Ben Solo rises from the ashes and calls out to him from the back of his mind.

Maybe, someday, I will.

Ben stares into his father's eyes, burning the memory of his laugh lines, his salt-and-pepper windswept hair, his well-worn smile, into his mind, not wanting to forget a single detail. He looks exactly the same as the last time Ben had seen him. Oh, how he would give anything to go back in time and take it all back, to relive that pivotal moment and choose a different path.

And perhaps…perhaps that's what this is. Perhaps that's exactly what the Force is granting him. A second chance to make the right choice.

"I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it," he says in an echo of that fateful day.

"You do," Han says, offering him an affectionate, knowing smile. He reaches forward, cradling Ben's cheek in the palm of his hand, and suddenly, Ben is a child again, heart fit to bursting as his parents tuck him into bed and kiss him goodnight.

Back when he was whole, when he was happy.

Before his dreams were haunted by the flash of a crackling red saber as it was plunged into his father's heart.

He glances down. Feels the weight of the world clutched in the palm of his hand. Disgust rises like bile in the back of his throat at the sight of the loathsome thing.

"Dad, I—" he says, tears welling in his eyes.

I'm sorry.

I miss you.

I love you.

"I know."

Without hesitation, Burn turns on the spot, and with as much force as he can muster, hurls the hilt of his cross-guard into the air, a bout of breathless laughter bubbling up inside his chest as he watches it sink beneath the waves. For the first time in years, he feels free.

When he turns back around, his father is gone, just as he expected he would be. But just as he's begun to make his way through the wreckage of the old war ship, a tentative plan brewing in the back of his mind, he pauses, eyes growing wide at the sound of his mother's voice, calling out to him from beyond the veil.

Never be afraid of who you are, Ben.

• • •

He wakes in a world made of starlight, echoes of strange, surreal visions flitting across his mind like a mosaic of memories that have not yet come to pass.

At first, he's convinced that he must still be dreaming, or that death had granted him a glimpse into a perfect almost future, tailored to his every whim and wish; the dream of a life he could have had flashing before his eyes before the final strike, an entire lifetime experienced in the span of seconds.

But there's something…different about these visions, something that doesn't quite feel like they're entirely his own. There's an undercurrent of someone else's voice, someone else's thoughts, someone else's feelings, running just beneath them, like a river flowing beneath a sheet of ice.

Be with me, Ben. Please. Just be with me. That's all I want.

Rey.

He calls out to her in desperation, searching for her amidst the darkness that surrounds him, heart aching for the halcyon visions pouring from her mind into their bond. But there is nothing; a vast, inky black expanse both above and beneath him, bursting with silver stars, the voice of his beloved fading into a deafening silence.

He is alone, suspended in a realm between life and death, everything he's ever wanted just beyond his grasp, tempting and taunting him. He pulls his knees to his chest and buries his face in the palms of his hands, tears spilling from his eyes, heart dropping into the hollow of his stomach.

And then, just when he feels all hope has been lost, a gentle hand comes to rest against his shoulder, and a wave of calm washes over him as he looks up into the smiling face of his mother. She is different from the last time he'd seen her, a tinge of gray around the edges, but still just as fiercely beautiful as ever.

She reaches out to him, cradling his cheek in the palm of her hand, and tells him all he needs to know. That she loves him. That she's proud of the person he is becoming. That he is on the right path, but this is not where his story ends. That there is still so much left for him to do, so much life left for him to live. That there is one last thing she can give him, to ensure that he does.

He doesn't understand what she means until she's already done it, leaning forward and pressing a delicate kiss to the top of his forehead. With a warm, gentle glow, like sunlight flowing through his veins, he feels her transfer the very last of her life Force energy into him.

Breath abandons him. He looks up at her, tears streaming down his face.

"Mom, I—" he says, struggling to string together the right words, hardly knowing where to even begin to thank her, to beg for her forgiveness, to tell her how much he loves her.

Leia leans forward, brushes a wayward tear from his eyes, and fixes him with a bittersweet smile.

"I know," she says, and in an instant, she is gone.

Across the galaxy, on the jungle moon of Ajan Kloss, the body of Leia Organa disappears, finally at peace with the Force.

The world around him trembles and begins to fade.

Be with me, he hears Rey's voice calling out to him, louder and clearer than ever before.

I'll come back for you, sweetheart, I promise, he says, before he's swallowed in a sea of darkness.

• • •

Ben's eyes flutter open to the sight of a teary-eyed angel hovering above him, a halo of stars wreathed between the locks of her chestnut hair. For one dazed moment, he wonders how he'd managed to end up on one of the moons Iego, when the would-be Diathim lets out a surprised gasp and tugs him upward with the indelicate grace of a scavenger seizing a priceless find.

Memory returns to him slowly, churning like rusted cogs, stitching everything back together one detail at a time. The angel keeps him steady in her embrace, one hand curled protectively around his shoulder, the other pressed against his rapidly beating heart, fingers laced with his own. As his eyes readjust to a world filled with muted blues and grays instead of stark black and white, her face swims into focus, and all at once, he remembers.

The silhouette of a sunken war ship, jutting out like crooked teeth in the mouth of the misty gray skyline. The smell of sea salt married with the chorus of crashing waves. The crackling spark of azure against crimson. The shock of pain, felled by his own sword in the hands of the one he adores. The ferocity of Rey's fury, chased by the soothing balm of her mercy. The sound of his name, his true name, on her lips. The way it never fails to bring him to his knees in ways a saber strike never could.

He'd had it all wrong. All this time, he had thought it was their shared pain that bound them together. Kindred spirits drawn to each other's darkness. One lonely, bitter soul calling out to its other half, its unrivaled equal. That only in darkness could they rise, exact vengeance for their suffering, kill the past so that they would never again have to fear abandonment at the hands of those they loved. That only as Kylo Ren could he give her everything she wanted, everything she deserved.

But what she had wanted, all along, was the man underneath the mask. The one he had convinced himself was worthless, weak, and foolish. The one he had tried to bury, but who, ever stubborn, kept clawing his way back to the light. The one she had seen through shared dreams and visions of the future. The one his mother told her stories about in hushed whispers and bittersweet, tear-soaked laughter in the dead of night over one too many glasses of honeyed wine.

Rey was the only one who truly knew him. Saw the world through his eyes. Heard the clamor of his racing thoughts inside her head. Felt his feelings like an ache in her own heart. Every thought, every feeling, every secret desire he'd ever tried to keep hidden, spilling out of him like an open wound into their bond.

People keep telling me they know me. I'm afraid no one does.

But I do.

She had seen his true face underneath the carefully crafted mask of Kylo Ren, bleeding heart beating in the cold steel cage of his chest, even as he struggled to suppress his emotions and pretend he felt nothing, stomaching years' worth of unresolved anger, fear, and heartache until it rose like tidal waves, manifesting in impassioned bursts of raw emotion, betraying the torment he felt inside.

She had seen him at his absolute worst, flaws and scars laid out bare, and still decided that he was worth the trouble. In spite of everything, she had seen the good in him, held out hope that he would choose the right path and return to the light. She made him no longer want to run from it, and instead, embrace it.

It wasn't commiseration for the pain of her past that Rey sought, it was companionship; an equal, to take her by the hand and help each other grow beyond the walls they'd built to guard their fragile hearts. She never wanted to kill the past; she wanted them both to heal from it, to move forward from it, to build a better life in the wake of it.

Together.

With him.

With Ben Solo.

"Ben," she says, almost breathless in how delicate and tentative it is, like she can't quite believe he's actually real. And then she's smiling at him, genuinely smiling at him, brighter and wider than any of the handful of hints twitching at the corners of her lips in the rare moments she'd graced him with a hopeful grin, and Ben swears it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"You came back to me," she says, hand coming to rest against the side of his face, fingertips tracing the curves of his cheekbones, the seam of his lips, the shadow of stubble skating across his jaw, charting constellations in the collection of moles and freckles that dapple his skin.

Slowly, hesitantly, as though not quite certain he's allowed, Ben lets the hand settled between her shoulder blades drift to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair, and watches with no small amount of awe as her eyes flutter closed and she sighs softly, a delicate shiver winding its way down the length of her spine.

With a jolt that's equal parts panic and euphoria, Ben realizes that he's never been this close to Rey before. Close enough to map star formations in the cinnamon dusting of freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose. Close enough to make detailed lists of all the meadow moons and floral forests and priceless gemstones her eyes remind him of.

Close enough to feel the warmth of her breath ghost across his lips, the steady beat of her heart beneath her chest, the weight of her body curled up in his lap, the gentle press of her fingertips grazing his cheek. Every detail, like notes in a symphony, singing the irrefutable truth that Rey is alive, that she is safe, that she is here with him, that for all his faults, he has finally done something worthwhile.

Relief in the wake of adrenaline-fueled terror bursts out of him in a strangled sob, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, hands trembling as they curl protectively around her shoulders and the nape of her neck, clinging to her like a lifeline.

"This is it, Ben," she says with something akin to laughter, coming out in a breathless burst of joy. "This is the future I saw for you."

For us, she lets the unspoken words slip through the bond, and Ben's heart skyrockets into his throat at the memory of everything Rey had shown him in the World Between Worlds, hardly daring to believe that he could ask for anything more than he's already been granted, that someone like him could ever be deserving of something so peaceful and pure.

"Rey," he says, his voice thick with unshed tears, the sound of her name caught between a gasp and a whisper. "Your vision of the future…everything I saw…everything you showed me…"

"You would—" he falters, swallowing against a knot at the base of his throat. "You would want that…with me?"

Rey's smile wavers for a fraction of a second, giving way to a bittersweet sigh. The way he's looking at her, awestruck and disbelieving, tears pooling in his bright, hopeful eyes, tentative smile aching to bloom into a full crescendo, is enough to make her heart swell and burst. And yet, for the life of him, he cannot seem to fathom the idea of someone ever feeling the same way about him.

But then, of course he can't, because he's never known how. He'd spent his whole life feeling like a failure, desperately craving love and affection, and yet resolutely convinced that he isn't worthy of it. Ben Solo may be back, but there's still a long, winding road to recovery ahead of him. He'll need time to heal, to make peace with his past, to make amends for his mistakes, before he can even begin to reach a point of self-acceptance. Even then, Rey wonders whether he'll ever get used to the idea of being wanted for the person he truly is.

Luckily, they've got all the time in the world. For now, Rey will just have to love him for the both of them.

In lieu of an answer, Rey merely offers Ben a shy smile, and his brows knit together in concern at the sudden uptick in her heartbeat, curious as to what's got her so nervous. She doesn't leave him long to wonder, his own pulse soaring to match hers as she places a tentative hand on his cheek, sending shivers down his spine as she curls her fingers into his hair, and presses her lips against his.

And Ben—

Breaks.

Crumbles into a thousand tiny pieces, only to be stitched back together under the spell of Rey's gentle touch. For as often as Ben had imagined this moment, caught up in daydreams in the idle hours between training and meetings with only the hum of his ship to keep him company, nothing could have prepared him for the reality of kissing Rey.

It's the farthest from ideal that he could have ever asked for, alone together in the ruins of a Sith fortress in the wake of a sky-bound war, skin slick with sweat, covered in blood, dirt, and debris, and yet, somehow, it is everything, perfect in its imperfection, overwhelming in its intensity, that for the barest hint of seconds, Ben is rendered frozen, a nerve-addled mess of quivering lips and clumsy hands struggling to catch up with the rest of him.

And then he's surging forward, gathering her into his arms and pulling her close, pouring everything into the way he kisses her, every lovelorn confession and unspoken promise he never thought he'd ever get the chance to tell her, heart thundering inside his chest like ocean waves in the eye of the storm as an endless serenade of I love you, I will always love you, you are my everything sings through their bond.

In this moment, Rey is everything. She is the stars, the moon, the swirling cosmos. She is the sun after centuries of starless nights and frostbitten winters. She is the aurora that dances in the northern skies over snow-capped mountains and frozen tundras. She is spring, breathing life back into the earth after an infinite autumn. She is the sea, and he is glad to be swept up in the current of her tide. (If this is drowning, he refuses to be rescued.) Most of all, she is home, and for the first time in his life, he is safe.

• • •

He's not proud of the fact that he nearly whines when Rey lets him go, eyes fluttering open in a daze, struggling to catch his breath and regain some semblance of composure, but the self-satisfied little smirk that tugs at the corner of Rey's lips is well worth the momentary embarrassment. In his defense, it was one hell of a kiss.

"That's a yes, by the way, in case you couldn't tell," she says, cheeky smile blossoming into a full-blown grin, and Ben can't help the giddy, euphoric laughter that bubbles up inside his chest.

It's a curious thing, seeing Ben laugh for the first time; not in a dream, nor a memory, nor a vision of the future, but here in person, because of her. She's never seen him like this, eyes crinkled at the corners, face lit up with laugh lines. She didn't know he could have dimples. The sight of it does funny things to her heart, and Rey can't help but somewhat smugly think I caused that, which only serves to make Ben laugh even harder.

The smile that he gives her, Rey could swear there's nothing sweeter, nothing more beautiful, or gentle, or soft, or pure. It is everything, and it feels like she's won the war all over again.

He leans forward, gently brushing his nose against hers, and presses a kiss to the top of her forehead, laughter fading to a contented sigh.

"Let's go home," he says, scooping her up into his arms, and gently setting her back down onto her feet. He offers her his hand, and together, they walk out of the crumbling fortress, leaving the very last of the Sith to become nothing more than a bad memory.

• • •

Not long after, Rey makes planetfall on Ajan Kloss, landing Luke's battered, waterlogged old X-Wing on the outskirts of the Resistance Base, victory celebration in full stride. The moment her feet touch the mossy, mud-slick earth, she's weaving through the crowd, seeking out the familiar signatures of Finn, Poe, and Rose, and throwing herself into their arms, relief flooding her at the confirmation that her friends and family are safe.

With a fond smile and a few amused eye rolls exchanged back and forth with Rose, Rey listens as newly appointed co-generals Poe and Finn regale her with blow-by-blow accounts of the war over Exegol. It's only when they stop to ask what happened on her end that her smile falters, and Rey struggles to recount the nightmare world she'd fallen into as she'd traveled to the heart of the Emperor's lair, glossing over as many details as possible. By the end of it, all three of them have been struck speechless, shocked by the revelation of who had come to her aid in the eleventh hour and fought by her side.

"So, what, Ren's defected to our side now?" Poe asks, brow furrowed in disbelief.

"Wouldn't be the first," Rose chuckles, jabbing a thumb in the direction of a heavily bandaged and surly looking Armitage Hux.

"Yeah, except there's a huge difference between the Supreme Leader of the First Order and a lower-ranking general playing double agent," Finn argues. "I'm not even sure he deserves a trial, given everything he's done. At the very least, he belongs in cuffs. So, where is he, Rey?"

"He—" Rey hesitates, panic painting the pulse points of her cheekbones in hues of scarlet and dusty rose.

"Rey," Finn says, his tone softening to one of concern. "What happened? Where's Kylo Ren?"

Rey pauses for a moment, considering her next words very carefully.

"Kylo Ren is dead," she says solemnly, not quite meeting his eyes. "He gave his life for me."

Finn blinks a couple of times, utterly bemused.

"Oh," he says after a few moments, not quite sure how to respond. "Well, that's...huh."

Technically, it's not exactly a lie. Kylo Ren is dead. Rey just happened to leave out the part where Ben Solo came back.

It's not as though Rey plans on keeping Ben's identity a secret from them forever, it's just…not the right time. She'll tell them the whole truth. Eventually.

There will be plenty of time in future to figure out how to reintegrate Ben Solo back into the world where he belongs. For now, Rey decides, it's best to just keep it under-wraps, put some distance between the end of the war and his return, let the dust settle and the celebrations carry on undaunted by unnecessary complications.

Admittedly, what Rey truly wants is time. Time to just be with him, free from watchful eyes on both sides of the war, from the looming shadow of his past. Time to simply let Ben live, a chance to settle into the person he was always supposed to be. Just the two of them, existing within a small stolen pocket of time, just for a little while. After that, they'll face whatever the future holds, together.

"So, listen," Rey says, eager to break the tension and get to the crux of why she'd come back in the first place. "I'd love to stay and celebrate, but there's something I have to do first. I just needed to make sure you were all alright before I left."

Finn purses his lips, at the ready to argue, or at the very least, insist on accompanying her again, when Poe places a steady, reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"This is some super secret, mystical Jedi solo mission, isn't it?" Poe asks with a playful smirk.

"Something like that," Rey replies, biting back a smile at the words Jedi Solo.

Finn narrows his eyes, studying her expression for a hint in the fault lines. After a few moments, he huffs out a long-suffering sigh and draws her into a hug, making her promise she'll keep them updated via comlink, while Poe (somewhat begrudgingly) insists that she take BB8 along for company, if nothing else.

With the Falcon fueled, packed up, and ready for takeoff, Rey runs back down the boarding ramp to give her friends one more round of hugs, promising she'll see them again soon. Together, Rose, Finn, and Poe watch as Rey becomes nothing more than a blip on the horizon, before disappearing into the black.

• • •

Rey settles into the Falcon's familiar, well-worn cockpit, and sets the coordinates for a small, pastoral world located in the Chommell sector of the Mid Rim. Its name is unfamiliar, but it's the rendezvous point Ben had chosen as they'd parted ways on Exegol, promising her in between lingering kisses and tearful sighs that he would be safe there, that they wouldn't have to be without one another for long.

A seemingly endless blur of silver-white stars streaks past the viewport, until finally, its swirling, cloudy atmosphere comes into focus, and Rey's heart skips a beat as she's swept up in a sea of green and gold, landscapes bursting with vibrant cities, rolling hills, floral meadows, earthy mires, lush woodland forests, and cascading waterfalls rushing into ever-flowing springs and radiant lakes with crystal clear waters in hues of cerulean and sapphire, surfaces sparkling in the light of the setting sun.

She's fallen in love with Naboo before she even makes planetfall.

As the Falcon glides over an arboreal mountain range dotted with archipelagos, a chime in the tracking system tells her she's reached her destination. Varykino, Ben had called it; an idyllic estate in the heart of the Lake Country that had once belonged to his grandmother, and which still remains in the care of the Naberrie family. As carefully as she can manage, Rey lands the Falcon in the middle of a courtyard shrouded by evergreens, and steps out onto a marbled walkway lined with flowering shrubbery.

Allowing the Force to act as her guide, Rey follows the pathway down the sloping mountainside as it twists and curves through lavish gardens, fruit-ripened orchards, and Hsuberry groves, until finally, she comes to a sudden halt at the base of a set of stone steps, and her heart leaps into her throat at the sight that awaits her: a magnificent palace, replete with a waterfront balcony, towering turquoise domed spires, and winding stone-encrusted stairways kissed by ivy and perennial vines, surrounded by a wall of misty mountains, golden skyline mirrored in the surface of a vast, glittering lake; the fairy tale castle from her visions of the future, identical down to the very last detail.

And yet, none of it compares to the sight of the man standing just ahead, arms thrown casually over the edge of the balcony, gaze cast toward the sky, basking in the last remaining embers of sunlight as it dances across his skin, so swept up in the moment that he almost doesn't register Rey's arrival. And then he's turning on the spot, sprinting to close the distance between them, gathering her into his arms and spinning her around in a dizzying pirouette, the sound of his laughter vibrating against her ribcage as he captures her in a kiss.

• • •

Ben had only been to Varykino a handful of times, but he remembers his way around the palace with perfect clarity, swiping a selection of dried fruit and cured charcuterie from the kitchens for a makeshift dinner for two, scouring wardrobes for fresh clothing left behind by prior guests, and setting to work filling the gold-flecked white marble master bath with fragrant herbs, flower petals, cleansing oils, and soap bubbles, determined to give Rey some semblance of the kind of luxury and relaxation she deserves.

Together, they collapse onto the silken sheets of the master suite's king-sized four poster bed, Rey charting star maps in the freckles and moles that dapple his skin, giggling softly as Ben regales her with stories his mother used to tell him before bedtime, about how she and his father first met, how his grandparents had fallen in love and married in secret at the edge of the waterfront balcony just a few paces beyond their chamber doors.

They fall asleep entwined beneath the gossamer canopy with a view of the starry night sky mirrored in the surface of the lake, framed like a living portrait in between a trio of intertwining archways wreathed in ivy and flowering vines, and leave at first morning's light.

• • •

Sunrise bathes the cabin in a golden glow, azure sky flecked with brushstrokes of coral and citrus as the Falcon rises to meet the horizon. For the first time in nearly two decades, Ben settles into the pilot's seat, bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he twirls a delicate golden chain bearing his father's lucky dice between his fingertips, and sets the controls for a brand new destination, Rey beaming at his side. He wonders, idly, if the old girl could still make the Kessel Run in less than fourteen parsecs, and a wry smile curls across his face.

Just kidding, dad. I know it was twelve.

In the distance, an Imperial Tie Fighter sits in a remote forest clearing along the Naboo countryside, where it will stay for the remainder of its days, veiled by a series of towering trees, twisted with vines, collecting rust and moss with each passing season, until eventually, it is reclaimed by the earth.

• • •

Far beyond the charted territories in the Unknown Regions, on an ocean world scattered with a series of islands kissed by emerald and stone, two figures cross blades beneath a binary sunset, silhouetted in silver and gold. A sparring match, to test their newly forged weapons for the very first time.

A clash of golden cores, bright as sunlight, fierce as fire. The sound of laughter, lighthearted taunts, and playful teasing. Skin slick with sweat and salty sea air. Heart thundering in a young man's chest as he's bested once again, pinned to the ground by his adversary. A devilish smirk curving across his lips as he finds the perfect sweet spot and exacts his revenge, tickling her senseless.

The journey had taken them nearly two standard years. Together, they had traveled across the galaxy, to unknown worlds beyond the reaches of their star maps, searching for a source that hadn't already been mined to death by the Empire and the First Order, and returned with a single kyber crystal, found in the depths of an underwater grotto on a distant ocean moon.

Temple Island, where the very first Jedi Temple had stood, felt the most appropriate place to honor the ancient tradition. There, amidst crashing ocean waves and rolling thunderstorms, they had worked side by side handcrafting brand new lightsabers of their very own, Ben teaching Rey everything he had learned during his first ceremony, in accordance with the Crystal Code.

The crystal is the heart of the blade.

The heart is the crystal of the Jedi.

The Jedi is the crystal of the Force.

The Force is the blade of the heart.

All are intertwined: the crystal, the blade, the Jedi.

You are one.

Together, they had built two sabers, capable of connecting to form a single saber-staff. Hilts forged from a Jakku scavenger's old quarter-staff and a series of spare parts from a weathered old Corellian YT-1300 light freighter. Two blades, sharing two halves of the same kyber crystal at their core. A dyad, just like their masters.

Exhausted from a long day of training, Ben and Rey catch their breath at the edge of the seaside cliff, watching twin suns sink beneath the horizon. They turn to one another, the same knowing look mirrored in each other's eyes. It's time.

They debate, for quite some time, which place would honor them most. Alderaan is, of course, no longer a viable option. Chandrila and Yavin 4 hold rather complicated histories. Both Anakin and Luke had loathed Tatooine, and Leia's short-lived experience there hadn't exactly been pleasant. Besides which, as far as Rey is concerned, she'll be happy if she never has to set foot on another lonely desert wasteland ever again.

"I hate sand," she says, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she curls her fingers into the dew-soaked, mossy earth beneath her. "It's coarse, and rough, and irritating, and it gets everywhere. Not like this place. Not like Nab—oh."

Without warning, Ben springs to his feet and starts making his way back to the Falcon, tugging Rey by the hand. BB8 chases after them, warbling with concern.

"Ben," Rey admonishes, annoyed at the sudden jostling of her very sore muscles. "Where are we going?"

Halfway up the boarding ramp, Ben turns around to face her, a brilliant smile blossoming across his features.

"I've figured it out," he says simply. "I know the perfect place."

• • •

They find the memorial at the heart of a botanical garden, shrouded in a sea of ivory flowers. Together, they place Luke and Leia's lightsabers in an ornate wooden box and bury them deep within the earth, laying them to rest beneath a marble statue commemorating the late beloved Queen Amidala. There, the four of them could finally be together, reunited as a family; mother, father, daughter, and son.

Ben could think of no better place to honor them than at Varykino, the place where Luke and Leia's mother and father had fallen in love and taken vows. A simpler time, before chaos fell and darkness cursed the Skywalker bloodline.

Perhaps this is some kind of poetic justice, Ben muses. If Rey truly is a Palpatine, then perhaps this brings their story full circle. A Palpatine corrupts a Skywalker and lures him to the dark side. And now, against all odds, a Palpatine leads a Skywalker back to the light.

• • •

"I'll be waiting for you back at the ship, whenever you're ready," Rey says, opting to give him a moment alone with his family.

As she starts to pull away, Ben tries to argue.

"But you're my family, too," he says, and Rey's heart catches in her throat. It's not the first time he's said this, nor will it be the last. They must have said it to each other hundreds of times over the course of the past two years, but the words still hit her with the same impact every time.

Family. Belonging. Home.

"I know," she says softly, fixing him with a fond smile and giving his hand an affectionate three-pulse squeeze. "But I think this is something you need to do on your own."

He lets her hand slip from his fingertips, listens as her footfalls fade away down the garden path, and sinks to his knees in the shadow of the marble statue, splaying his palms over the freshly dug mound of earth.

In the aftermath of the war, there hadn't been time for memorial service, nothing to bury but symbols and relics. He'd never truly had the chance to mourn them, until now. Everyone he'd ever lost. All the ones he wishes he could have met.

Mom. Dad. Grandmother. Grandfather. Uncle Luke.

"I'm going to do right by you," he says, tearful conviction wrapped around every word. "One day, I'll make you proud."

He senses their presence before he sees them; the bittersweet pang of loss and mourning, of old wounds in the process of healing, of loving bonds being rebuilt in the wake of troubled history. The gentle weight of a pair of hands comes to rest upon his shoulders, and then a second, and then a third.

Slowly, Ben rises to his feet and turns around, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes flicker back and forth between their kind, smiling faces, spectral silhouettes gleaming in the starlight. Together, the ghosts of his mother, uncle, and grandfather converge around him, wrapping him up in their arms.

"You already have, Ben," they tell him, love and forgiveness radiating from every word. "You already have."

• • •

It's well past nightfall by the time he makes his way back to the Falcon, knees covered in dirt, bittersweet smile etched across his tear-streaked face as he climbs into the cockpit and settles into the seat beside her, curling up in her waiting arms. She understands exactly what he needs without either of them having to say a single word, gently stroking his hair as he nestles his head against the center of her chest, lulled by the steady beat of her heart.

"I love you," he whispers softly, leaning up to press a kiss to the top of her forehead.

"I know," she says, darting a cheeky smile in his direction. She lets a few seconds tick by just to tease him, and then adds, "I love you, too."

Ben huffs out watery chuckle, reveling in the comforting familiarity of her hand entwined with his own.

"So," he ventures as he settles into the well-worn pilot's seat, gaze cast toward the endless sea of stars framed in the viewport. "The whole of the galaxy, hundreds of worlds just waiting to be explored…where do you want to start?"

It still feels like a dream, sometimes, seeing him like this. Eager for adventure, a chance to travel the cosmos fighting for his mother's cause, rattling off a never-ending list of ideas for ways they could make the galaxy a better place.

The both of them, stark contrasts to the people they used to be; two lonely, kindred spirits reaching out to one another from across the stars, finding home in each other's embrace.

The vision of their future flickers through the Force bond; a lifetime of infinite potential, and they've got all the time in the world.

Rey turns to look at him, heart in her throat at the bright, hopeful look in his eyes, like the stars themselves live within his very soul. Her answering smile is radiant.

Epilogue: The Marvelous Misadventures Of The Galaxy's Finest Rebels

Nearly two standard years after the battle of Exegol, Rey makes planetfall on Coruscant, where a good portion of the Resistance have taken up residence in order to serve on the senate for the reestablished Galactic Republic. She's barely made it down the boarding ramp when she's tackled into a bear hug by Finn, Poe, and Rose, exuberant laughter and cries of we missed you so much echoing throughout the landing bay.

"Glad to see you haven't blown up my droid in all the time you've been gone," Poe quips with a wry smile as BB8 comes bounding down the boarding ramp, issuing a series of happy beeps at the sight of his old friend.

"Glad to see you haven't blown up the galaxy, now you're in charge of its welfare, senator," Rey fires back with a playful smirk.

"Hardly," Poe groans, rolling his eyes.

"Uh oh. What's he done now?" she stage-whispers to Finn and Rose, who struggle not to burst out laughing.

"Okay, first of all, ow," Poe scoffs, mock offended. "And second…I mean, don't get me wrong, we're making a positive impact. Or at least, everyone else is. Me, I'm not cut out for a life of politics. Apparently, I'm too…what's the word?"

"Trigger-happy?" Finn teases around a smug grin.

"I was going to say passionate," Poe replies, playfully punching him in the arm. "No, it's just…I'd rather be out there in the thick of it, you know? Actually fixing things, instead of just talking about fixing things. Getting to the heart of the real issues, all those little details that slip by under the radar. I want to talk to real, authentic people, not these bougie Core World aristocrats that have more wealth and power than they know what to do with."

"And honestly, I just really miss flying," he says with a wistful smile, gaze cast toward the skyline, so thick with air traffic it's almost impossible to see the stars beyond. "I've been dying to get back out into the sky. We all have."

He looks around at Finn and Rose, who ruefully nod their assent.

"Well then, you're in luck," Rey says, steeling her nerves for the massive bombshell of a revelation she's about to drop into their laps. "We happen to be in need of a crew, if you're interested."

Poe's expression is ecstatic.

"Of course we're interested! That sounds amazing, I—" he falters, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Wait…when you say we…"

"I…haven't exactly been traveling alone these past two years," she says cryptically. "I've been with Ben."

All three of them look confused.

"Who's Ben?" Finn asks, genuinely curious.

And then his face falls.

"No," he says. "Rey, tell me you don't mean—"

Before she can answer, Ben takes this as his cue to come sauntering down the boarding ramp, hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers. Whatever apology tour speech he'd been rehearsing the past few hours gets drowned out by the sound of Finn and Poe's frantic shouting, both of them fighting to assume a protective stance in front of the other. Rose, for her part, merely looks amused. Rey holds up her hands in surrender as she's pelted with a barrage of angry inquisition.

"What the hell, Rey?"

"I thought you said he was dead!"

"Let me explain," she says, but it's like trying to subdue a pack of wild Mudhorns.

"I can't believe I let you take BB8 around that monster!"

BB8 chirrups cheerfully at Poe's side.

"What do you mean he's alright once you get to know him? He's Kylo kriffing Ren! Who, again, you said was dead, Rey!"

"Kylo Ren is dead," she says matter-of-factly, turning around to glance at a very sheepish-looking Ben, who accepts her proffered hand like it's a safe haven in a storm. She smiles at him fondly, and says, "But Ben Solo is alive."

She thinks Finn and Poe might burst a blood vessel at the sight of their entwined hands. Granted, she can't exactly blame them. She'd been expecting this. After all, they'd only ever known him as Kylo Ren. Ruthless leader of the opposition. Monster in a mask.

They've never met Ben Solo. Softhearted, gentle, quick-witted Ben. The lonely kid who loved his mother and father with unrivaled ferocity. The man who still managed to smile even after a lifetime of pain and loneliness. Her Ben.

"Look, I don't care if he's suddenly decided he's going by a different name now," Finn splutters angrily. "He's still the same person, Rey."

"Technically, that's—"

"BEN SOLO!"

A booming voice echoes from across the landing bay, interrupting their quarrel, and all five of them swivel on the spot to see Maz Kanata striding over to them with purpose. She comes to an abrupt halt in front of Ben, staring up at him intently.

"Come down here so I can get a proper look at you," she says, and Ben swallows nervously. With only a second's hesitation, he does as she asks, crouching down onto his knees in front of her. It's truly a sight to behold, this towering tree of a man quaking under the scrutiny of tiny, bespectacled Maz. If Rey weren't so nerve-addled, she'd be laughing.

After a few moments, Maz gives Ben a curt nod, apparently satisfied by what she sees. And then, without warning, she reaches forward and gives him a scolding smack on the back of the head, before drawing him into a tight-knit hug.

"Welcome back to the light," she says as she pulls back to look at him, beaming back and forth between him and Rey.

Ben looks perplexed but altogether pleased, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where she'd cuffed him as he watches her make her way back to her quarters.

Several long moments pass in uncomfortable silence as the five of them pointedly avoid each other's gaze. It's Poe who finally breaks the silence, heaving a long-suffering sigh and taking a few tentative steps toward Ben.

"Alright, look," he says gruffly, but the venom in his voice is only half as potent as it had been before. "Obviously, I still don't like or trust you, and I doubt I ever will, but I guess…I mean, everyone deserves a chance to prove they've changed for the better, right? Why else did we spend a full year giving former First Order members a fair trial? If Rey, Maz, and BB8 can vouch for you, then I guess you're worth a shot."

He holds out his hand for Ben to shake, gripping it a little harder than is strictly necessary, but Ben doesn't mind. In fact, he thinks he might just get along with Dameron in due time.

Rey watches the interaction with no small amount of awe, casting a furtive glance at Rose for reassurance that what she's seeing is actually real.

"Stranger things have happened," Rose replies with a halfhearted shrug. "He's got a weekly card game going with Hux now."

"You're joking," Rey gawks at her in disbelief.

"Yeah, and he's a cheating bastard," Poe grumbles at them over his shoulder. He turns back to face Ben, giving him a final once-over, taking note of the amused smirk he's trying desperately to keep hidden beneath a somber, neutral expression at Poe's playful jab ragging on Hux, followed by a swift nod of approval.

"Alright, enough with the formalities. Are we going inside, or what? It's freezing out here," he says, slinging an arm around Finn's shoulders and steering him in the direction of their apartment.

Ben takes a few hesitant steps forward, spurred on by the sight of Rey's encouraging smile, by the gentle weight of her hand in his. After a few moments, Finn falls into step beside Rey, glancing back and forth between the two of them with a furrowed brow, trying to work out how the hell this became a thing.

He clears his throat intently, casting a wary glance in Ben's direction.

"I'm not gonna shake your hand," he says gruffly, and then, ever so slightly, the tense line of his shoulders begins to loosen. "But out of respect for Leia and Rey, I guess I won't try to kill you, either."

The barest hint of a smile flickers across Ben's face, and Finn can't decide if that makes him feel better or worse about the whole thing.

"Can't say the same about Chewie, though," Finn adds with a wry smile. "That's gonna be one hell of a reunion."

Ben stops dead in his tracks, frozen to the spot.

"Uncle Chewie's here?" he asks, his voice so small and unsure. In that moment, he is every bit the little boy who used to run around his father's ship with a pilot's helmet too big for his head, falling asleep at the helm wrapped up in the warmth and safety of his uncle's arms.

"Don't get too excited," Finn smirks. "Jury's still out on whether he'll suffocate you to death with a bone-crushing hug, or hit you with his crossbow. Personally, I'm betting on the latter."

It's not long before Chewie is gathering Ben up into his arms and squeezing the air out of his lungs with a wail of relief that he's still alive, Ben sobbing an endless chorus of I'm so sorry into the Wookiee's fur.

• • •

The trial of Ben Solo, formerly Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, rules as follows: that he shall not be imprisoned, nor executed for his crimes, but that he will make his amends fulfilling peace missions assigned to him by the senate, accompanied by a team of highly-skilled Resistance war heroes in order to keep a watchful eye on him, until such a time that he is granted amnesty. It's only pure luck (and Rey's heavy influence as a Jedi legend) that it was already in their plans.

Their crew consists of nine members in total; five humans, one Wookiee, and three droids. Together, Ben, Rey, Rose, Finn, Poe, Chewie, BB8, R2D2, and C3PO board the Millennium Falcon, and set the coordinates for the first planet on their docket.

The adjustment period is gradual, but steady. Over time, they all learn, perhaps not to like one another, but to tolerate each other, to trust one another. They keep expecting Ben to turn, for this to all have been a ruse, and are pleasantly surprised when he's kind, gentle, and helpful.

At first, Finn pointedly avoids him whenever possible, blaming literally anything and everything on Ben's mere presence (the water heater's broken, he takes too long in the 'fresher, space is cold.) After a while, it becomes a running joke between them, the two of them pointing fingers at one another whenever Rose or Rey cracks down on them for misbehaving.

Poe routinely tests his limits with playful prodding and snarky jokes, trying not to smile when Ben starts to get a little more comfortable around him and dishes them out as good as he gets. Though they never quite learn how to share the Falcon, constantly bickering over whose turn it is to fly, snarking passive aggressive criticisms about each other's aviation styles from the co-pilot's seat.

Nine times out of ten, Rey typically ends up taking over, huffing out a long-suffering sigh as the pair of them enter into an endless verbal sparring match. By the third time it happens, Finn's brought popcorn and settled into a nearby seat to referee.

Rose isn't the least bit intimidated by Ben, and has no problem barking orders while they try to fix a blown fuse. They end up bonding one night over their shared hatred of animals being kept in cages, one things leads to another, and the next thing Rey knows, she's being woken up in the middle of a sleep cycle to Ben and Rose giggling madly, telling her to gun it, because they've just just freed a hoard of wild vulptices from a nearby traveling circus.

Chewie is just glad to have his nephew back, delighting in two-on-two games of Dejarik to pass the time in between star systems; Ben and Chewie vs. Finn and Poe. (Ben and Chewie always win, and they're always smug about it.) Sometimes, they'll sit across from another at the holo board in the quiet hours of the evening after everyone else has gone to bed, chipped mug of caf trembling in Ben's hands as he tentatively asks for stories of all the things Chewie and Han got up to while he was away at Luke's academy.

It's not all whirlwind adventures and lighthearted expeditions. Sometimes it's dangerous, sometimes it's exhausting, and sometimes it's mind-numbingly dull, but Ben doesn't mind in the slightest. All that matters is the fact that he's making a difference, righting the wrongs left in the devastating wake of the First Order and its predecessor, atonement for everything he'd done as Kylo Ren.

In their travels, they come across a significant sum of Force sensitives scattered across the galaxy; some in captivity, some merely lost and seeking a sense of belonging, just as Rey had been.

"What they need is a teacher," Rey insists, thinking back to the young boy they'd freed from servitude on Cantonica who could summon a broomstick at will, to the elderly woman on Tatooine who had predicted the vicious sandstorm several days before it had crossed their paths. "Someone to guide them, to help them find their place in all of this, to make sense of what they're feeling and what they're capable of."

They turn to one another in unison, brilliant smiles blossoming across both of their faces as a wonderful notion ripples through the bond.

• • •

They find home in the Lake Country of Naboo, armed to the nines with essays worth of notes, sketches, and tentative plans to transform Varykino into their very own temple, a sanctuary for Force sensitives young and old, novice and virtuoso, a place where they could learn, where they could grow, where they could find purpose, if that is what they desire. In the end, it would always be their choice. Ben and Rey would never return from an off-world expedition with Poe, Finn, Rose, and the rest of their old crew without making absolutely certain that their newest recruit genuinely wanted to accompany them.

It would be nothing like the academies of old; Ben would make sure of that. In this regard, they truly would let the past die, abandoning the antiquated strictures of the Jedi code, and replacing their teachings with a curriculum focused on establishing balance in the Force, encouraging their Padawans to acknowledge their emotions, to feel them, rather than suppress them for the sake of peace and harmony, to process them in an effective, healthy way, allowing for true catharsis, for balance, for freedom.

• • •

Summer sunlight pours over the tops of the misty mountains, a kaleidoscopic burst of colors in every hue dancing across the surface of the lake, bathing the ivy-kissed temple in a golden glow. Together, the two of them take their usual place at the edge of a wildflower meadow, and watch as the members of their found family spar with practice sabers, honing skills and implementing new techniques they'd been taught the day before.

As the courtyard erupts with the sound of laughter and triumphant cheers, their gazes find one another, and without a word, they reach across the space between them and take each other's hands, worn and weathered wedding rings glinting in the light of the rising sun. Even now, the sight of him still makes her heart catch in her throat; sea of wild jet-black hair tinged with flecks of gray as it waltzes in the wind, face lined with years of laughter.

Throughout her lifetime, she'd traveled to hundreds of worlds, witnessed the most beautiful, breathtaking sights the galaxy had to offer, from crystal caves and ocean moons, to floral gardens and lush green forests; and still, Rey doubts she will ever see anything quite as beautiful as the way Ben looks when he smiles.

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