Master Skywalker hadn't been what Rey had been expecting.
Granted, she hadn't known what to expect at all, so for him to be the exact opposite of that was almost impressive. One of the few benefits of interacting with so many offworlders on Jakku, aside from picking up on a variety of languages, was being able to listen to stories from all over the galaxy without ever having to leave her planet. Several of those stories had mentioned the great Luke Skywalker, and about how he and an impossibly small handful of Rebels had saved the galaxy. She'd thought of these as folk tales, given how often she'd heard them and how many different variations these stories had come in, but when she'd discovered conclusively that he was a real person, still living, and still possessing the power to bring about peace and order and hope....
His realness had made him seem that much greater in her eyes. She'd known he couldn't be exactly like all of the tales rolled into one miraculous, flawless being. She'd known that he might not equal to Han Solo, whom she'd latched onto as a paternal figure in the short time she'd known him and felt a great need to avenge. But once she'd discovered that gnawing, cagey power welling up within her and realized what it was, she'd known that she had to see him, meet him, beg for his help, not just for the Resistance and the galaxy at large, but for herself.
She was scared. Hurt. Angry. Lonely. Determined. And hopeful that she was going to find the Resistance's savior. Instead, she'd found what appeared to be a tired old man who'd wanted nothing to do with anything outside his self-imposed isolation.
But she was stubborn. And for a while, she could forget how much she'd wanted his help for personal reasons, trying to impress upon him how important he was to the fate of the galaxy. And after some time, probably due to her sheer bullheadedness and honesty about how frightened she was of the constant pull of the Force, he'd relented.
He wasn't what she'd pictured, no. But that wasn't all bad. Despite his isolation and his grizzled appearance, he was more of a person than many others she'd met recently. Granted, she'd met quite a few of the bastards in the First Order and had witnessed one of them kill his own father, so that wasn't hard. But Master Skywalker - Luke, as she thought of him despite giving him a proper title - had a softness to him. Sometimes she thought she could almost see the young man he'd been, before Ahch-To, before the Resistance, before Darth Vader.
And that-... well, it had made things a little easier to bear. She could almost forget the danger her new friends were in, and the pressing need she'd felt to bring him back to General Organa. Almost, but not quite.
But then the visions had started. They'd never really stopped, not since she'd first picked up Luke's lightsaber on Takodana, but they'd begun to get more and more vivid. And not only that, but there was one reoccurring vision that she'd realized wasn't a vision at all, but something that was happening in real time.
Kylo Ren. Here, on the island. Except he wasn't. She could see him, hear him, sense him as though he was really there, but it was like talking to an ultra-realistic hologram. He could see her too, likely in the same way she saw him, and claimed that they shared some kind of connection, brought together by the Force.
But she didn't want to be connected to him. He was a monster, blinded by the darkness he'd let consume him. If she truly had a connection of some sort to him, what did that make her?
So she decided to test it, to call his bluff. She should have talked to Luke about it first, true, but it had been more of a last-minute decision brought on after a sleepless night, wondering if the moment she closed her eyes Kylo Ren would appear in her hut and watch her as she slept. She needed to be able to control this bond, and she needed to learn fast.
So she sat on the cold floor, eyes closed as she'd improvised with what Luke had managed to teach her so far. She extended herself, reached out with the Force, searching for Luke and imagining that she would have to reach far across to where his own dwellings were. Imagine her surprise, then, when she found him much closer than expected, not quite seeing him so much as sensing his presence there, outside her door, and her with all the finesse of someone walking into a stone wall.
She thought she could see his form, but she could just have easily been imagining it, filling in the blankness with what she knew him to look like. It was a kinder picture than what he might have of himself, perhaps; softer around the edges, a touch of her hero worship coloring her view. But she soon forgot about filling in her visual sense of him when she realized that there was more there beyond what she could see.
There was conflict there, more than she would have thought. She couldn't read his thoughts like a book, didn't know what the conflict was about. Did he want to go back with her? Was he having second thoughts about training her? Did he not like the idea of a young nobody from nowhere invading his space? If that last were the case, what would he say about her violating his thoughts like this, even if she hadn't meant to?
The thought was startling enough that it drove out her sense of calm, breaking off her end of the connection as her eyes snapped open. That-... that had been wrong of her. She'd only wanted to see if she could see him, connect with someone the way Kylo had claimed they'd been connected; she hadn't meant to spy on anyone.
Not knowing whether or not he'd felt her sticking her nose where it didn't belong, she hurriedly rose to her feet, moving to the door. Maybe she'd been imagining the whole thing, and he wasn't standing there at all, and she wouldn't have to worry.
But he was, and whether or not he'd sensed anything was amiss before, her wide-eyed greeting was probably a sure sign that things were far from normal. "Master Skywalker," she greeted, trying not to sound breathless or guilty or ashamed. "Good morning."
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Granted, she hadn't known what to expect at all, so for him to be the exact opposite of that was almost impressive. One of the few benefits of interacting with so many offworlders on Jakku, aside from picking up on a variety of languages, was being able to listen to stories from all over the galaxy without ever having to leave her planet. Several of those stories had mentioned the great Luke Skywalker, and about how he and an impossibly small handful of Rebels had saved the galaxy. She'd thought of these as folk tales, given how often she'd heard them and how many different variations these stories had come in, but when she'd discovered conclusively that he was a real person, still living, and still possessing the power to bring about peace and order and hope....
His realness had made him seem that much greater in her eyes. She'd known he couldn't be exactly like all of the tales rolled into one miraculous, flawless being. She'd known that he might not equal to Han Solo, whom she'd latched onto as a paternal figure in the short time she'd known him and felt a great need to avenge. But once she'd discovered that gnawing, cagey power welling up within her and realized what it was, she'd known that she had to see him, meet him, beg for his help, not just for the Resistance and the galaxy at large, but for herself.
She was scared. Hurt. Angry. Lonely. Determined. And hopeful that she was going to find the Resistance's savior. Instead, she'd found what appeared to be a tired old man who'd wanted nothing to do with anything outside his self-imposed isolation.
But she was stubborn. And for a while, she could forget how much she'd wanted his help for personal reasons, trying to impress upon him how important he was to the fate of the galaxy. And after some time, probably due to her sheer bullheadedness and honesty about how frightened she was of the constant pull of the Force, he'd relented.
He wasn't what she'd pictured, no. But that wasn't all bad. Despite his isolation and his grizzled appearance, he was more of a person than many others she'd met recently. Granted, she'd met quite a few of the bastards in the First Order and had witnessed one of them kill his own father, so that wasn't hard. But Master Skywalker - Luke, as she thought of him despite giving him a proper title - had a softness to him. Sometimes she thought she could almost see the young man he'd been, before Ahch-To, before the Resistance, before Darth Vader.
And that-... well, it had made things a little easier to bear. She could almost forget the danger her new friends were in, and the pressing need she'd felt to bring him back to General Organa. Almost, but not quite.
But then the visions had started. They'd never really stopped, not since she'd first picked up Luke's lightsaber on Takodana, but they'd begun to get more and more vivid. And not only that, but there was one reoccurring vision that she'd realized wasn't a vision at all, but something that was happening in real time.
Kylo Ren. Here, on the island. Except he wasn't. She could see him, hear him, sense him as though he was really there, but it was like talking to an ultra-realistic hologram. He could see her too, likely in the same way she saw him, and claimed that they shared some kind of connection, brought together by the Force.
But she didn't want to be connected to him. He was a monster, blinded by the darkness he'd let consume him. If she truly had a connection of some sort to him, what did that make her?
So she decided to test it, to call his bluff. She should have talked to Luke about it first, true, but it had been more of a last-minute decision brought on after a sleepless night, wondering if the moment she closed her eyes Kylo Ren would appear in her hut and watch her as she slept. She needed to be able to control this bond, and she needed to learn fast.
So she sat on the cold floor, eyes closed as she'd improvised with what Luke had managed to teach her so far. She extended herself, reached out with the Force, searching for Luke and imagining that she would have to reach far across to where his own dwellings were. Imagine her surprise, then, when she found him much closer than expected, not quite seeing him so much as sensing his presence there, outside her door, and her with all the finesse of someone walking into a stone wall.
She thought she could see his form, but she could just have easily been imagining it, filling in the blankness with what she knew him to look like. It was a kinder picture than what he might have of himself, perhaps; softer around the edges, a touch of her hero worship coloring her view. But she soon forgot about filling in her visual sense of him when she realized that there was more there beyond what she could see.
There was conflict there, more than she would have thought. She couldn't read his thoughts like a book, didn't know what the conflict was about. Did he want to go back with her? Was he having second thoughts about training her? Did he not like the idea of a young nobody from nowhere invading his space? If that last were the case, what would he say about her violating his thoughts like this, even if she hadn't meant to?
The thought was startling enough that it drove out her sense of calm, breaking off her end of the connection as her eyes snapped open. That-... that had been wrong of her. She'd only wanted to see if she could see him, connect with someone the way Kylo had claimed they'd been connected; she hadn't meant to spy on anyone.
Not knowing whether or not he'd felt her sticking her nose where it didn't belong, she hurriedly rose to her feet, moving to the door. Maybe she'd been imagining the whole thing, and he wasn't standing there at all, and she wouldn't have to worry.
But he was, and whether or not he'd sensed anything was amiss before, her wide-eyed greeting was probably a sure sign that things were far from normal. "Master Skywalker," she greeted, trying not to sound breathless or guilty or ashamed. "Good morning."