The first time, when she'd pushed him so hard out of her mind that she'd flung herself into his, she'd found fear. Terrible fear but only fear. Now, though she can't discern his thoughts, she'll occasionally get flashes, like a garbled message on a bad comm frequency. All of it is pain. Pain in myriad forms, but pain nonetheless.
Right after their battle on Starkiller Base, there was the exquisite grinding pain of healing from his injuries, slower than expected. The phantom twinges in her own body had fascinated Rey.
There was the pain of wounded pride the first time he saw the scar that now bisects his face. It's not gruesome, but it is a reminder of his failure. He is also, unsurprisingly, rather vain.
Some if it is enough to send Rey reeling. This is Kylo Ren's Master, "training" him via torture. Killing the last of the light in him that stubbornly refuses to vanish even after he killed his own father.
And yes, it is still there. Rey has felt it, no matter how hard he's tried to kill it. No matter how hard he's tried to keep her from the nooks and crannies of his being where it lingers. When Rey is curious enough to initiate contact, he curls around them, surrounding them with horrors he's dreamed of and those he's committed, in an effort to scare her away. As though he's afraid that by finding it she'll draw it out. Stretch and expand it. Weave a very blanket of light and cover him in it.
She wants to tell him she's as incapable of doing that as she is of severing this tie they have. Whatever it is.
He is fanatical in his training, but he is not training on behalf of the First Order or his Knights or even his Master. He is hell bent on self-destruction. He is finished with being Snoke's blunt instrument, but he has no hope of ever being able to forge another kind of life. Because even if he somehow gained his mother's forgiveness or anybody's trust, if he gives up, all of his horrible deeds will have been for nothing. So he gets up again and again, subjects himself to everything his master throws at him.
Yet there is a bleak tedium to his life that exceeds even what Rey experienced on Jakku. At least she had hope of a rescue other than death.
Underneath everything there's the dull, festering ache of Kylo Ren's mind. He is at war with himself and no one is winning.
All of this reveals itself to Rey outside of his control. Not once has she felt even the barest tickle of him probing her mind, though it's obvious that if there are leaks in his defenses, the same must be true of her.
She shudders at the things he may have seen, broadcast by her subconscious in moments of rest. She is terrified of how he might use them. She has pored over his memories and pain in search of a means to exploit them. This is a war, after all.
She works on building up her defenses.
Then one night, he slips into her dreaming mind as easily as he had that day on Takodana.
She dreams she is back on Jakku. Of a star destroyer that has been picked over until nothing is left but its frame. She stands beneath it, not knowing why, only knowing that she has to get to the top.
"Rey."
She turns around and he is there, standing on a black sand beach under dark sky, illuminated by twin moons.
Rey has had dreams about him before. This is different. This is him standing on the threshold of her mind, asking to come in. Instead, she steps over onto the dark sand.
They stand, facing each other as the waves lap the shore and the wind whips his cloak. The mask is gone and his eyes gleam.
"Are you sleeping?" she asks.
"Yes."
"What do you want?"
"I don't know."
"Fantastic."
Rey has no concept of how much time passes as they gaze at each other. The twin moons climb across the sky and the tide comes in, lapping around their feet.
"Where is this place?" she asks.
"You tell me."
"What?"
"This isn't one of my memories, so if it's real, it's one of yours. If it's a dream, it's one of yours."
Rey ghosts around the edges of his mind, looking for signs he is lying. She doesn't recognize this place from a memory or a dream. It must be something his subconscious had drug up. It's a far better representation of his soul than hers.
He laughs. "I swear I've never seen it before. I was pulled out of another dream and landed here."
The water laps around their knees now. Rey moves further inland and sits on a boulder. He remains in the water, silhouetted against the larger of the moons. He joins her once the sea reaches his waist.
They sit on the rock and watch the moons set. Rey is not sure she will ever get enough of watching moonlight dance on water. It shines on the rippling surface like two glittering paths meeting at the shore.
"What's the most water you'd ever seen at once before Takodana?" Ren asks.
"What is this?" Rey says.
"I'm not aware of such a planet, and I'm aware of many."
"No, what is this?"
"Have you not asked Luke Skywalker about it?"
"No! I haven't told him about it at all. Have you told Snoke?"
"No. But he knew anyway, though I've hidden the extent of it. I'm sure your Master knows, too. He'd wait until the end of time for you to bring it up first, though."
"But you do know what it is."
"Somewhat." He looks down at his hands. "It's called a Force bond. It's exactly how it sounds. We're connected via the Force."
"But isn't everyone?"
"Yes. But this is different. Stronger. It usually only occurs between Masters and apprentices. It's a great advantage in battle. Well, unless you're bonded with your enemy."
"How did it happen?"
"I believe it's because I had to push so hard to try to get inside your mind for the map, and you tried so hard to keep me out. It was too much exposure at once, for someone whose abilities had just awakened. So here we are."
"Well, what do we do to break it? I'm assuming that's why you've decided to talk to me."
"You sent your dream to me, Rey."
"Not on purpose! And you could have, I don't know, gone away. You didn't have to call my name. But now that we're here, and you're calm for once, how do we break it?"
"We don't."
"What?"
"It'll break when one of us dies. I know what your training is preparing you for, and I'm certain you know what mine is preparing me for. I need you to understand that when you finally do kill me, the bond will break, but it won't be clean. It'll be, at best, empty. At worst, like an abscess that never heals."
"You mean I'll grieve for you?"
"In a way, yes."
"And if you kill me?"
"The same. Though there's always the chance that something lethal to one of us would be lethal to both."
He's still staring out at the sea. In the pale light, his scar is barely visible. The wind whips his hair around like it did that snowy night on Starkiller Base. His profile is strong and almost handsome, but he slumps forward like a dejected child.
"So that's it, then. For the rest of our lives, we're chained to each other, feeling each other's feelings and thoughts when we let our guard down, and when one of us finally manages to kill the other, we'll either walk around forever with a gaping wound in our souls, or we'll both die."
Kylo hazards a look at her. "You could always accept my offer, to train you."
"And you could give up this horrible quest of yours and go back to your family."
He looks back out at the sea. "Neither of those things is going to happen, at least not by choice."
"So you would kidnap me and take me to your Master, force me to be your pupil?"
"And you wouldn't drag me to the Resistance if you had the chance?"
"For your mother, yes."
The barest hint of a smile plays at his lips. "My mother's faith in me is naïve."
"Naïve is the last word I'd ever associate with her."
"Doesn't make it any less apt."
Kylo stands. The moons are pale and there's a silver glow on the horizon. "Good bye, Rey."
Rey rises and follows him. "That's it, then? Really?"
He stops but doesn't turn. "What else is there, but the battlefield?"
As he steps into the ocean the world shifts again and she's back in the blazing sun of Jakku, but just as quickly she awakens, sitting up in her cot with the smell of a foreign sea in her nose. She looks out the window at a fading blanket of stars and she can almost pinpoint which one he orbits.
But there's nothing for it but to wait.
"To the battlefield, then," she says, and rises to her day.
