The kind of power Rey was talking about, the sort of power he'd felt the moment she'd landed, was like nothing he'd ever seen before. He'd not had to see it demonstrated to feel a cold hand grip him deep inside, a warning he had not heeded last time, leading to his utter rejection of her until... well. He was not altogether certain he hadn't been right, to try to shut her out, but that decision now seemed impossible, unthinkable. To ignore it was no better than to assume he knew what to do with it. Either implied an arrogance, that he had the luxury of either controlling or disregarding the kind of strength that could change the balance of the galaxy.
Ignoring it, further, made it only more likely she'd find answers in an even worse place than him.
But neither did he ascribe her discovery to anything wrong within her--the idea that she would was foreign to him. Then again, so was the story she was telling. He could not fathom it--an untrained mind fending off a mental attack like that.
His nephew invading the mind of this girl.
The sheer violation of it made him feel sick to his stomach suddenly, both for her and for his own place in this travesty. He'd loosed Kylo Ren upon the world, and then he'd turned his back. Leaving people like Rey to fend for themselves, leaving those Ren faced without guidance or understanding.
Doing to them, essentially, when Ben Solo must have thought he was doing to him all those years ago.
He had two choices, in that moment. And he'd turned his back on turning his back ever again, at some point after letting Rey in. So instead, he gave in to his other impulse, just as strong in the other direction, and reached for her. If she let him, it was all he could do now to fold her into his arms and whisper, "I'm sorry, Rey. I'm, so, so sorry."
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The kind of power Rey was talking about, the sort of power he'd felt the moment she'd landed, was like nothing he'd ever seen before. He'd not had to see it demonstrated to feel a cold hand grip him deep inside, a warning he had not heeded last time, leading to his utter rejection of her until... well. He was not altogether certain he hadn't been right, to try to shut her out, but that decision now seemed impossible, unthinkable. To ignore it was no better than to assume he knew what to do with it. Either implied an arrogance, that he had the luxury of either controlling or disregarding the kind of strength that could change the balance of the galaxy.
Ignoring it, further, made it only more likely she'd find answers in an even worse place than him.
But neither did he ascribe her discovery to anything wrong within her--the idea that she would was foreign to him. Then again, so was the story she was telling. He could not fathom it--an untrained mind fending off a mental attack like that.
His nephew invading the mind of this girl.
The sheer violation of it made him feel sick to his stomach suddenly, both for her and for his own place in this travesty. He'd loosed Kylo Ren upon the world, and then he'd turned his back. Leaving people like Rey to fend for themselves, leaving those Ren faced without guidance or understanding.
Doing to them, essentially, when Ben Solo must have thought he was doing to him all those years ago.
He had two choices, in that moment. And he'd turned his back on turning his back ever again, at some point after letting Rey in. So instead, he gave in to his other impulse, just as strong in the other direction, and reached for her. If she let him, it was all he could do now to fold her into his arms and whisper, "I'm sorry, Rey. I'm, so, so sorry."