An ethereal veil of white clouds hovers over Temple Island, filtering but not obstructing the suns’ light. Hampered by structures and formations in the ancient Jedi village below, the wind is a mere mild breeze; however, it grows bolder as Rey and Skywalker ascend the winding stone steps up one of the island’s tallest peaks.
Her thighs burning, Rey begins to wonder which she and Skywalker will encounter first—their destination or the sky? The thought no sooner crosses her mind than they come upon an opening in the rocky crag.
The first Jedi temple.
Skywalker enters with a casual indifference that tells her he’s done so many times. Her own stride slows as her eyes widen.
The interior chamber is so large that she’s certain the entire mountain must be hollow. Despite its vastitude, though, it’s a simple space, designed for a specific purpose. The high, vaulted ceiling shelters a small pool encircled by a short stone ledge in the center of the floor. Visible through the calm, clear water is a mosaic, an arrangement of small stones and pebbles that depicts a humanoid figure with legs folded and head bowed—a Jedi in meditation. The figure holds what appears to be a narrow staff—or perhaps some sort of weapon—that serves to bisect the piece.
While Skywalker moves on, Rey takes a moment to peruse the mosaic. It’s a study of contrasts and parallels; where dark stones lay to the left of the staff, light-colored stones mirror them on the right. As such, the figure of the Jedi is fashioned in both elements; it appears to be humoring them in equal measure.
She’d like to ponder it longer, but she dares not neglect the hard-won attention of her cantankerous companion. Following him through another opening, this one smaller, she steps out onto a slight precipice with a daunting view of the seemingly endless body of water that covers the planet Ahch-To. Porgs coo and call overhead as they visit their nests tucked into the nooks and crannies of the mountainside.
As there’s no time to waste, she once again launches into her campaign. “Master Skywalker,” she begins with utmost seriousness, “we need you to bring the Jedi back, because Kylo Ren is strong with the dark side of the Force. Without the Jedi, we won’t stand a chance against him.”
Standing beside a plinth comprised of two flat stone slabs stacked atop one another, the wind stirring his hair and cloak, Skywalker regards her with austere appraisal. “What do you know about the Force?”
“It’s a power that Jedi have that lets them control people, and…” She hesitates, realizing she knows little else about the mystic energy. “Make things float.”
“Impressive,” he praises satirically. “Every word in that sentence was wrong.” Turning away from her, he rounds the plinth and indicates it with a long green blade of grass. “Lesson one. Sit here, legs crossed.”
Clasping his hands behind his back, he waits for her to comply and situate herself on the hard surface. When she gazes up at him with rapt attention, he explains, “The Force is not a power you have. It’s not about lifting rocks. It’s the energy between all things, a tension, a balance that binds the universe together.”
Brow tense with determination, she nods readily. “Okay.” After a moment, however, she squints up at him and asks with quiet uncertainty, “But what is it?”
He shifts his feet as he considers another approach. “Close your eyes,” he directs softly. She obeys. “Breathe.” She inhales, exhales. “Now, reach out.”
Rey physically thrusts out her arm, fingers fully extended, and waits diligently for something to happen.
After rolling his eyes to Dagobah and back, Luke glances at her arm, at her—then lifts the blade of grass and lightly tickles her knuckles with the tip.
She gasps with delight. “I feel something.”
“You feel it?” he whispers excitedly.
“Yes, I feel it!”
“That’s the Force!”
“Really?”
“Wow, it must be really strong with you!”
She shakes her head in amazement. “I’ve never felt anythi—”
Whack. He slaps her hand with the reed. “Ow!” Instantly she retracts the appendage, grimacing as she exclaims with more umbrage than pain. Shaking her smarting digits, she glares at him accusingly.
He stares back at her, deadpan.
Gradually, her indignation subsides as she realizes she misunderstood. Feeling ten times the fool, she lays her hand over her heart and humbly mumbles, “You meant reach out like…”
His brows arch high into his forehead, and the patronizing look he gives her suggests she should start with lessons at a much lower level. Much lower.
Well, how was she supposed to know? Until recently, she thought the Force and the Jedi were only myths and legends. Kylo Ren always reached out his arm or used his hands when wielding the Force; she’d extended her arm when she summoned the lightsaber on Starkiller Base. With her limited experience, she assumed the gesture was conducive to results.
Adjusting her position—sitting on a rock is not comfortable—she says defensively, “I’ll try again.”
Luke tosses the blade of grass over the cliff and into the wind. Taking her hand, he presses her palm to the surface of the plinth. “Breathe,” he coaches, his gentle tone contrasting his churlish demeanor. “Just breathe.”
Anxious that she’ll make a fool of herself again, Rey squeezes her eyes shut. He makes the ability to commune with the Force sound simple, as if it should come naturally to her. Perhaps it should; perhaps her power isn’t as strong as she wants to believe. Perhaps she isn’t meant to use the Force at all. Perhaps she only defeated Kylo Ren because he was wounded and she was angry. The stormtrooper who freed her on Starkiller Base could have been a sympathizer.
A fluke. It could all have been a fluke. A crash of circumstances, a tangle of fates and chance. She could be no more than a Jakku scavenger who’s had a brief adventure.
The notion makes her feel as hollow as the mountain.
“Reach out with your feelings,” Luke instructs.
Brow knit, she draws a deep breath and wills herself to concentrate properly. Wills herself to succeed. Wills herself to be more than no one from nowhere. To be someone who is worthy of wielding the Force.
As she releases the breath, she imagines expelling her anxiety along with the air. She imagines Luke accepting the lightsaber and all that accompanies it. She imagines disembarking the Falcon and watching Leia embrace her brother. She imagines the First Order falling to the Resistance. She imagines both peace and the Jedi being restored to the galaxy, because she—she—convinced the last and most obstinate Jedi in existence that it was worth fighting for. She imagines…
Purpose.
Slowly, her features relax as something rouses inside her. Originating in her core, a mote of energy blooms and flourishes, warming, quickening, flowing through her veins, filling her lungs, touching her heart and opening her mind to a sense beyond the mundane, the tangible, the finite.
“What do you see?” Luke whispers.
With that sense, Rey perceives the repercussions of all that has come before…and the potential of all that may lie ahead. The possibilities overwhelmingly broad, she narrows her focus to her present environment.
“The island,” she responds mildly, preoccupied.
Carrying the song of birds, a warm breeze brushes along grass and flowers in a meadow. “Life.”
The remains of a long-dead creature rest far below the surface world. Its decomposed carcass provides the rich black soil with nutrients that, when properly warm and damp, encourages seeds to sprout and grow. “Death and decay…that feeds new life.”
Wisps of atmospheric vapor dissipate in the heat of the suns, and light bathes the face of a mountain. “Warmth.” But where one side basks in light, the other lies in shadow, further chilled by the ocean’s spray. “Cold.”
A mother porg spreads her wings over her newly hatched young, protecting them, loving them. “Peace.” But somewhere else, a roaring wave trounces a vacated nest, destroying it and washing the remnants out to sea. “Violence.”
“And between it all?” Luke prompts softly.
She shakes her head slightly, contemplating. “Balance. An energy.” Then all perplexity drains from her face as enlightenment dawns. “A Force.”
“And inside you?”
“Inside me…” Pushing, pulling, pulsing. “That same Force.”
“And this is the lesson,” Luke whispers with passion. “That Force does not belong to the Jedi. To say that if the Jedi die, the light dies, is vanity. Can you feel that?”
She hears his words…but she’s not listening. Another sense, same and yet different, has entered her awareness. Frowning, Rey murmurs, “There’s something else. Beneath the island.”
A dark crevice, a shadowy cove worn as smooth and glassy as the stones in the mosaic.
Come…
“A place. A dark place.”
Spilling from an opening in the ground, slimy black seaweed grasps for purchase on gleaming wet rock.
“Balance,” Luke says evenly. “Powerful light, powerful darkness.”
“It’s cold,” she breathes.
Come…
With an abrupt crack, the floor of the precipice begins to fracture.
Come…
Around her fingertips, rock chips and pebbles rise into the air.
Come…
“It’s calling me,” she cries, young, vulnerable, frightened by both the ferocity of the darkness…and its allure.
She knows this sensation, this baser nature tugging behind her navel, itching along her spine. She’s felt it before, in the forest on Starkiller Base, when Kylo Ren lay at her feet. At her mercy.
Come…
With a rumble and groan, boulders tumble down along the mountainside.
“Resist it, Rey,” Luke orders. But his firm tone is laced with fear. “Rey!”
Come…
If she can’t get Skywalker to help… If she goes back to the Resistance empty-handed… If the First Order reigns over the galaxy…
She can’t let that happen.
“Rey!”
She can’t fail.
Come.
She reaches for guidance—and finds herself gasping for breath, crouched on her hands and knees at the edge of the precipice.
Staring at her in astonishment, Luke mutters, “You went straight to the dark.”
Mind awhirl with the experience, she pulls her upper body onto the plinth and states urgently, “That place was trying to show me something.”
“It offered something you needed,” he states knowingly. “And you didn’t even try to stop yourself.” He takes a small, fearful step back, then turns and makes to leave.
“But I didn’t see you,” she laments, her eyes those of a disenchanted child. “Nothing from you. You’ve closed yourself off from the Force.” How can he instruct her in using the Force if he himself hasn’t communed with it in years?
Slowly, he pivots, meets her gaze. And in his blue eyes she identifies caution, suspicion, and a fatigue that results from a life of too much adversity and too little prosperity. It’s a countenance she’s seen often at Niima Outpost; one she’s worn herself.
Understanding, she whispers, “Of course you have.”
When he speaks, his gruff voice is hard and resolute. “I’ve seen this raw strength only once before. In Ben Solo.”
Her brow creases. Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?
“It didn’t scare me enough then.” His decisive, pragmatic stare lingers on her. “It does now.”
With that, he hurries away, leaving her crouched on the precipice, shaken and forlorn.
Abandoned once again.
If you liked this, let me know. If not, well, constructive criticism has its uses, too. Feel free to share excerpts on Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook, etc.–just please be sure to credit me and link back to this site. Thanks, guys!
A Child in a Mask – Ren’s first few scenes
Just You – the first force connection
A Monster – the second force connection
Your Greatest Weakness – Rey’s second lesson from Luke and the third force connection
Not Alone – Rey’s experience in the sea cave and the fourth force connection
His True Enemy – confronting Snoke
Let Old Things Die – the “proposal” scene
Let Old Things Die – revised and expanded
The Supreme Leader – Ren’s last few scenes
You’re Nothing – A Ben Solo Character Study
I’m a lonely Reylo with no tumblr, and you seem like nice people, so I have a theory I want to share because I haven’t seen it anywhere else yet. Am I the only one who thinks that maybe Rey has something of a “Frodo complex?” That is, in The Lord of the Rings, Frodo is compassionate towards Gollum/Smeagol because when he looks at Gollum he sees what he could become if he becomes too dependent on the Ring. I think there is something similar happening between Rey and Kylo. Just after they first Force-bond, she freaks out because she doesn’t want to think there is any similarity between them, and yet the bond indicates there is something connecting them. After Luke explicitly makes the comparison “I’ve seen this raw strength only once before, in Ben Solo,” she is truly terrified that somehow her power could lead her inevitably to the dark side. This is why she is so vicious during the beginning of the “Monster” scene, because she is trying to convince herself that she is nothing like him. But when Ben admits that he also sees himself as a monster, and does so with regret rather than pride, she realizes that just because she has the potential to be dark like him, she doesn’t have to be…and neither does he. In trying to save Ben Solo, Rey is also trying to prove to herself that her power doesn’t doom her to the same darkness.
Yesss! Join usss! *cackles evilly* I’d be honored if you consider this a safe place to chat about Reylo! I moderate all the comments (meaning I read every single one and have to approve of it before it’s visibly posted) so if an anti ever finds their way over here and tries to take a shit on us, I’ll just delete it! Muahaha!
As for your theory, it’s definitely not wrong; it’s a valid perspective and one I haven’t considered before. After some serious thought…I’m right on the edge between agreeing and disagreeing. I’ve been going round and round with myself for hours now. I’m not sure that Rey ever looked at Ben and saw what she could become; I think she had enough self-confidence and condemnation for the dark side that she never considered herself in danger of falling to it, especially not after she refused to kill Ben when he was at her mercy. Her entire life to that point was all about hoping she was meant for something better, that there was a good reason for her desolate circumstances, so I doubt she would believe she was evil, potentially, fated, or otherwise. She wouldn’t believe she was evil before she even had a chance to be good. I was always more under the impression that Rey looked at Ben and saw, at first, someone who was willing to hurt people for his own gain, and he disgusted her. She probably looked at him and saw the reason why she believed she was meant for better, meant to be good–because she could never be like him.
On the other hand…her self-confidence takes a hit when Luke gets scared of her during their first lesson and puts her on par with Ben. I wouldn’t say the prospect terrified her, but at that point I could maybe see her beginning to wonder, to doubt… And maybe that’s part of why she’s so determined to be a Jedi, an agent of light. Overcorrecting, as it were. Still, I don’t think she ever thought she was doomed to darkness. It would be out of character for her to think anything was doomed; the entire point of her is hope. I think, in trying to save Ben Solo, Rey wants to prove to herself not only that he can be saved, but that she can save him. The first would justify her sympathy for him, making her feel like she’s not betraying Han or the Resistance by caring for Ben, and the second would validate her belief that she’s meant to do good.
And that’s the problem–both Ben and Rey want to come together for their own selfish reasons. It’ll only work when they can partner up for the sake of others, for the sake of the Force and the galaxy, and not themselves. With great power…;)
I appreciate other perspectives that make me think. Thank you very much for sharing!
This is a good place for us drifting Reylos to congregate and chat. Danielle is super patient for putting up with those of us who have to check in frequently. You don’t have to be lonely anymore 😀
I think I’m with Danielle on this. I don’t think she sees Ben as what she could become, necessarily. I don’t think she even harbors that as a possibility for herself. (She would never kill her own father, if she knew him. Or, that’s what she believes.)
But I do think she is not-quite-consciously afraid of the darkside tendencies inside her. Not afraid enough to keep her from answering the lure of the cave when she needed it, but on some level she denies and rejects that part of herself. We know that she is tempted by the dark. We know she uses her emotions in combat, particularly her rage, like a good little agent of the dark would do. She isn’t pure light. She has her shadows. Those shadows spook her on some level, but like Danielle said, she’s too committed to being the spunky hero of the Resistance to consider that she has the potential for monstrosity inside her. Meanwhile Ben totally recognizes her fractured nature and wants them both to just be okay with the two halves of themselves. She’s still stuck in very binary thinking, though I think that gets shaken a little by the end. Not dissolved, just shaken.
I think, and hope, that the direction this is all moving in leads them to something more like what Ben wants. I’d love it if they could be agents of good in the galaxy, at peace with the passion of the dark and the moderation of the light. Able to be both for the benefit of others.
But I like thinking about the Frodo/Smeagol dynamic. It’s a parallel I hadn’t thought about before. And it definitely isn’t invalid. There might very well be that subtext lurking beneath her hostility in these scenes, beyond the whole “you killed my first would-be father figure” outrage.
100% agree
Are you planning to make more of these?
At this time, yes, but I make no promises 🙂 Life happens.
I always thought he said “Powerful light, powerful darkness” but I don’t know to be honest.
Another possibility! I need the English subtitles…
You were right! The novel says powerful light, powerful darkness. 🙂