The mechanics and engineers take apart the Millennium Falcon like they're cracking a nut, and Rey cannot bear to be anywhere else but with them. She watches and tries her best not to interfere, overseeing the repairs and offering her assistance when needed. Her favorite spot to sit is on a series of crates, tall enough where she can watch over their heads as they kneel down and take a good, long look at the wires underneath the paneling.

There's not too much damage overall, they tell her. The worst thing will be the maintenance, which will take a week of the ship sitting empty in port, doors wide open, free. It makes her nervous, but Rey knows that she has to get used to this new planet, where not everyone is trying to steal for an extra portion of food or two.

In fact, in her handful of days with the Resistance, Rey has already gained weight. It's nothing substantial, and does not even show on her tiny frame, but her stomach sometimes bloats so much it hurts. Her body feels off from the new air and all the water, and her stomach rejects dairy, a pleasantry she has never had before. Even the fruits, fresh from the gardens, sting her mouth with their acidity. She has been trained to eat very little of the same thing every day since she was a child.

That is why, whenever she has a plate full of food, she cannot eat it all, but cannot stand to see it go to waste. She will stuff herself before she lets the food rot somewhere, untouched, unused. "Rey," one of the engineers call out to her, interrupting her thoughts, voice muffled. She's somewhere beneath the floor, and Rey is only slightly familiar with the part of the ship that they're in.

Sometimes, there are very few differences between the smuggling rooms and actual ventilation. Judging by the faces of the team, they're terrified they may break something vital, and put the ship out of commission. Despite looking like garbage, it's a piece of war treasure, and they all find that restoring it somehow honors the memory of Han Solo. They never speak the words aloud, but Rey knows by their dedication that they all agree.

"What is it, Joce?" Rey asks, hopping down from her perched seat. The metal rings when she lands on it, loud from the pounding of her new, heavy boots.

"Take a look at this." There is a smile in her voice, and Rey moves quickly, eager to see what they found hidden beneath them. Peering into the gaping hole, there isn't much to see. There's enough room for a person, and not much else, but Joce manages to pull out a box from a smuggling container and squeeze it between her body and the wall. Rey reaches down to take it from her.

Rey sets it on the ground beside her, and offers a hand to help Joce climb her way out. Then, she peels the container open and shuffles through the items inside, realizing with a tight throat that it wasn't something left over from a job, or a box of spare parts. "These are his things," she says quietly, taking note of a gun holster, some magazines, a spare pair of shoes, and a small book. Beneath those items, a large pile of, for lack of better terms, junk sits, smushed together. Rey swallows.

"Someone should take these items to General Organa." She looks up to catch the eyes of the team, but they all look down, unable to catch her gaze. No volunteers. Rey gives a small frown, only the corners of her lips pulling down. She does not mind, but does not feel right to be the one to return his things to the General. She had watched him die, after all. Her Soulmate was the one to do it. But nobody speaks a word, and with a grunting breath, Rey rises.

She leaves the ship with the box heavy in her arms, squeezed tight to her chest. It's as large as her arms can reach, and her hands barely curl around the edges. Somehow, she manages. Walking slowly down the landing strip, as to avoid dropping it and breaking anything important, Rey takes her time to watch everyone. She still feels like a stranger imposing on someone's home. Everything here is still so odd to her.

For example, she knows of soldiers, of Stormtroopers and Rebels and anything in between. She has met her fair share of deserters, and knows of mutiny, theft, and fear. The Resistance, however, is something else entirely. Rey has never seen such loyalty before, and here, with jogging soldiers and pilots in uniforms, does she get to actually witness it. They are all part of a functioning unit, and she feels as though she's a spare part thrown into a clock, about to ruin the whole thing.

But Poe smiles at her from afar, and gives a small wave. Following his example, the others greet her as well, and she hears a small chorus of Hello, Rey! There is a smile on her face before she realizes it, and it only dims when she reaches the main building, where General Organa organizes battle strategies and intercepts intel.

The doors are locked here, at least. There is a camera at the entrance, and the door buzzes before opening, giving her clearance to go inside. It's slow compared to the battle days that she's used to. Inside, several tech officers speak into their headsets and search through their panels. There are several languages she does not recognize, which is an odd feeling to her. Rey is able to understand every language from her outpost at Jakku, and can speak a handful fluently.

General Organa stands behind one of her officers, squinting at his screen, reading the changing text over with intense scrutiny. Rey stops in her tracks, and clutches the box in her hands, waiting. Several moments pass before the General pulls away, and finally looks in her direction. Her worried expression smooths over, turning into a diplomatic smile. "Rey, how nice to see you."

"General Organa," she greets, and sets the box on top of the circular table in the center of the room. Without the holograms filling the air, it acts as an empty, unused desk.

"What's this?" the General asks, running her gaze over it warily. Rey gives an apologetic smile.

"A box we found on the Falcon. There are some of his things inside of it." She doesn't have to say who, Rey knows that General Organa immediately understands.

The box is opened quickly, and each thing the General pulls out, she recognizes. She looks nostalgic as she touches them, though her nose wrinkles in distaste at the magazines. Rey did not have to look through them to know what they are. "It's a miracle you found this," she tells Rey.

"Why?"

A sad smile. "That ship has changed hands so many times, it's amazing that anything of Han's has survived. He hid it well, apparently."

Rey has no reply, because she can imagine why, and watches as General Organa flips through the small book. The cover is dark leather, and the pages inside look yellowed and hand-written. "What is that?"

"A journal. He was not a very sentimental person, but he kept things, sometimes." She pulls out a piece of paper from in between the pages. It's small, dark blue, and shines in the light, like the stamp on the front is holographic. "This is a ticket to an underground Pod race." Her mouth twists as she stares at it, "He followed our son, Ben, because he figured out that he was sneaking out to become a racer. I was furious, but Han was proud."

"How old was he?"

"Ben? Fourteen."

Rey cannot believe that she asked about him so quickly. She feels uncomfortable whenever she thinks of him, but her whole body aches to know more. The mention of his name makes her want to run and stay still simultaneously, and she feels as though it's tearing her apart. She opens her mouth to ask another question, but one of the computers beeps, loud and clear throughout the room. Something has been found on one of the sensors. General Organa snaps the ticket back into the book, and quickly places it back in the box, the moment broken.

"General," one of the techs say over their shoulder, "we've got something."

"What is it? What do we know?"

There is a pause, "There are survivors."

The atmosphere in the room is suddenly tense. "Keep going," General Organa urges, and the tech taps at something, fingers rapid. "Several figures, not sure who, just yet." He throws up a hologram from his station, surveying the scene, and Rey moves from her place at the table to get a better look. "A ship being boarded minutes before the destruction of Starkiller. If only I could just…" the picture blurs out for a moment, and then clears up enough to zoom in. There, the image of Kylo Ren and his fellow commanders are unmistakable.

Rey cannot look at anyone but the holographic photo. "Did the ship survive the temporary supernova?" General Organa asks, and the picture shifts. A ship making its way through wreckage, piloting through debris and metal from the First Order base, already coming apart.

The picture changes again, and the ship is gone as the planet begins to implode, but trails of exhaust are highlighted by the heat-reader. "They jumped to lightspeed, ma'am. They escaped."

General Organa's face is hard like ice. "Do we know anything else?"

"No ma'am."

"Very well." Her eyes sweep the room, and she orders, "No one breathe a word of this. We don't need a panic before we have any more information. Technical officers, keep searching for what you can. Everyone else is dismissed." Rey tears her eyes away from the picture almost painfully, looking to catch General Organa's gaze. They stare at each other, before Rey nods. Everyone shuffles to do their duty, and Rey leaves to do nothing.

Two days later and Rey feels as though she wants to tear off her own skin. The sunlight feels wrong to her here, on D'Qar. It's not hot enough, not overbearing enough, and she wants nothing more than to dig her toes into sand and tilt her face up to catch the sun's rays. All her life, she has dreamed of leaving Jakku, but now she cannot adjust quite right. Everything she knew is gone, and everything in her life has flipped upside-down.

She punches into the air, fists colliding with a long, hard bag.

The bandages on her knuckles keep her skin from ripping apart, but purple bruises blossom underneath. The force she swings with is the same as the Great Storm she lived through when she was eleven, where sand was trapped in her hair and in her home for three weeks. She had never seen winds so strong and so dry before, and now, Rey reminds herself of that power.

When she finishes, sweat drips off her tired and aching body. Her knuckles are throbbing and swelling, and she puffs out air as though she had stopped breathing completely. Rey started the day on empty, and pushes through until there is hardly anything left to keep her standing. When her body wobbles, sways side to side in her spot, she grips the hanging bag for balance.

Then she hears the footsteps.

Straightening, Rey turns on her heels. She is still quick and agile, and her gaze settles on General Organa, who slowly approaches her with her hands locked behind her back. She's dressed in her normal uniform, hair neatly pulled up high. Rey's own hair is wet, sticky against her face and halfway torn out of her normally placed buns. "General," she states politely, though her voice is weak and breathless.

General Organa gives a small nod, "Rey."

They stare at each other in silence, and as the seconds pass by, Rey can only swallow as she keeps her gaze steady. Finally, the General speaks, offering her hand, "Come walk with me." It is not a command, but Rey feels as though she cannot turn her down. She places her hand gently in hers, and follows her outside.

General Organa looks peaceful the second she's in fresh air. She looks at the thick trees that surround their base as if they're a beautiful garden. She walks with an air of grace, her posture never failing, and Rey feels her back straighten as she compares herself to the woman. Though her features are delicate at first glance, Rey knows that she is nothing but strength beneath them.

They walk quietly, the atmosphere turning from suffocating to peaceful as Rey practices her breathing. She finds it relaxing, staring at the foliage instead of the General's questioning eyes. It makes it easier to answer the question that she asks, "What's troubling you?"

"Nothing," Rey replies.

General Organa squeezes her hand, and Rey looks to her. There is a soft smile on her face, the glint in her eyes amused and familiar. "While I'm not nearly as in-touch with the Force as my brother or yourself, I am still sensitive enough to know when somebody is lying to me."

"I'm sorry," Rey apologizes instantly.

"I'm not angry." She says the words slowly. Rey would feel offended, if she did not know what kind of person her son must have been to raise, "I just want to help."

"There is nothing to help." Not a lie, this time. Simple.

"Please, let me try."

Warm and sad eyes search Rey's own, and Rey has to turn away again to speak. "General, there is nothing—"

"—Leia."

"I'm sorry?"

"Please, call me Leia. Only my soldiers call me General." Rey is relieved to know that she is not expected to take up a uniform. She doesn't know if she could ever have what it takes. She doesn't know if she is that kind of person, who can step in and follow orders.

Rey slowly stops walking.

She breathes in the air, and takes in her surroundings. This planet feels strange, but she thinks, one day, she could call it home. Rey does not know where to begin to explain, because her life has become so suddenly complicated, and her mind has not even made sense of it all on its own.

Instead of opening her mouth to speak, and telling a botched and incomplete story, Rey holds up her arm. She unravels her boxing tape first, and keeps going with her usual wrappings, until the skin of her arm is naked. There, Leia takes her hand with gentle fingers, and holds her wrist closer to her face, closely inspecting her tattoo.

She stares at it for a long time. Rey stands still in her spot, but cannot get a reading from her. Is this a bad sign? She can't tell. Eventually, when the grip of Leia's hand softens, Rey pulls her wrist away, holding it close to her body as she hastily rewraps it. "I'm sorry," she rushes out, nerves coiling in her chest, "I shouldn't have shown you that."

"No," Leia says, "I think I needed to see it."

Rey's breaths are heavy. Part of her wants to forget about it, to laugh as if the whole thing is a joke. Ever since she found out, she has wanted nothing more than to have the name slowly wash off her skin, like dirt streaking off with water. Another part of her, the part that's in tune with the Force, knows that this is the truth. She knows, deep down, that she must face this eventually.

"Now you know," Rey says. "If you don't want me to go see Luke anymore, that's fine. I can go somewhere else." She's used to being alone, although the brave offer makes her heart go chilly in her chest. Her thoughts go to Finn, unconscious in the infirmary wing, and she doesn't think she could leave him without knowing that she'll see him again.

But Leia does not take her up on it. "No, you have no idea what this means," she says firmly, reaching out and curling her fingers around Rey's forearm. She speaks confidently, as though Rey has confirmed something for her.

Rey's eyebrows pull together, "It doesn't mean anything."

"Rey." There is a light in Leia's face that was not there before, a happiness. "This means everything. Right now, you're my only hope."

Doubt claws through her, a dangerous thing that sneaks up her throat and chokes her. Rey has never asked for this kind of responsibility. "I don't know what that means."

Her hands go to Rey's shoulders, and she takes a step closer. Their faces would be almost level if Leia were not so short. There is a kindness in these gestures that only comes from a practiced mother's hands, something that is as foreign to Rey's empty heart as the gruff protection of a man who gave her her very first gun.

"It means that you can bring him home."

The words spark a memory, of a conversation with Finn that felt like both hours and years ago. A Soulmate is not always a connection, but a purpose. Rey hates that. She hates that she is becoming nothing more than the universe's tool, used to do its dirty work and then tossed away. Her shoulders sag at the thought of such a quest, and Leia pulls her into a hug.

"Oh dear girl," she whispers into Rey's ear. "I wouldn't ask this of you if there was another way. You're everything that I've ever dreamed of, for him." When she releases her, Leia says, "I've waited a long time to meet you."

Rey realizes that from this point on, General Leia Organa will not view her through the eyes of a powerful leader, but through the eyes of a woman desperate for her child. Rey thinks the latter is worse, for there is nothing she can do if her son really is lost to the dark side forever.

The fact that the base turned sending Rey off into an occasion almost makes her cry. She's given new clothes to wear, with new shoes and new wrappings, and plenty of extras for her trip. The pilots, engineers, and technical crew all dress up in their polished uniforms to say goodbye.

Even Poe, who has hardly left Finn's bedside, has brought BB-8 to see her away. She cannot help but give him a hug, because after Finn, he is the closest person here that she can call a friend. "Thank you," she tells him as she pulls away.

He smiles warmly at her, head tilting to the side in slight confusion, "For what?"

Rey shakes her head, "Just thank you, Poe."

Behind her, R2D2 beeps, and Chewbacca nudges at him. Rey knows that they are antsy and impatient, so she bids everyone a farewell. "Call me when Finn wakes up," she requests before she begins to back away. "Call me if anything happens at all."

The doors of the ship automatically close behind her as soon as she's inside. It smells the same, dirty and old with a hint of grease, but it rides like a dream. The trip is not the hassle she expected it to be.

The coordinates left behind lead to an island. The planet is unknown, lost to a forgotten system, but it doesn't matter what it's called or where it is. The island is not the same one from her dreams, because the water is cold like ice and is covered with mountains and rock. There's green here, though, and it's beautiful, and she thinks that she may find more peace here than the place where a dark shadow still haunts her sleep.

The levels of carved stone steps are no match for her legs, which are toned from years of climbing steep sand dunes and fallen ships. Her breath is a little short, and after an hour, the bag on her back begins to weigh her down, but she continues. Little else but determination fuels her, and she can almost feel her Lightsaber, cold like ice, through the material of her sack.

The journey gives her time alone to think to herself, without the constant presence of danger, or of people watching her every turn. She can feel Luke through the Force, but his presence is so distant she can almost convince herself she imagined it.

The breeze from the sea is chilly against her skin. She did not know that an ocean could be so clearly blue, or so deep, and Rey knows that if she were to topple over, there is no shoreline for hundreds of miles. Her body would be eaten by small fish before a sandy beach found her body. But it has been years since she has been afraid of heights, and her knees no longer wobble at the thought of such a horrible death. Instead, it powers her strength.

Her strength… Rey knows why she is here. It is the first time she's admitted it to herself, honestly, without any lies. She hopes that whatever Luke can teach her, it will help the turmoil inside her. She hopes that she can find the inner strength to do the mission she was made for, otherwise she fears that she'll run from the name on her wrist forever.

She doesn't know what to expect from Luke, but it certainly isn't what waits for her at the top of the highest peak. She's greeted by a hood, and cautious eyes when he finally turns to her. Like his sister before him, he and Rey stare at each other in silence, each beat passing by agonizingly slow. Rey feels as though her arm will begin to burn if she holds his Lightsaber outwards any longer.

Finally, he takes it. "I've been waiting for you. What's your name?"

"Rey."

A muscle in his jaw twitches, "I see." His eyes run over her body, as if he's debating whether or not she's worth the effort. He decides quickly. "Very well. Follow me."

The strange thing about Luke is that, despite the way he's isolated himself, he still has a sense of humor. It's a bit dark, maybe a little twisted, but there in a way that Rey can appreciate. It makes her feel a little less on-edge, makes the swell of nerves in her chest die down.

They walk together, side-by-side, on the trip back down the miles of stairs. It's slippery, the wind shifting with the tide to create a sheen of mist against the stone, and Rey uses extra caution. Luke does not seem to mind, though halfway, he jokes, "For the first part of your training, it would be best for you to carry me the rest of the way down."

Her head snaps to her left, and she searches his face to tell if he's joking or not. She's relieved at the small smile that plays on the corner of his lips. "Is that something you normally have your apprentices do?" Rey asks.

"Padawans," he corrects offhandedly. "No, but it's a technique that I've been introduced to before." He doesn't look at her very much, but stares off at the horizon of the sea instead. He never asks about her, and she doesn't ask anything else about him. The rest of the way down is filled with the sounds of the waves violently crashing against the rocks below. There are no gradual shores here, only the sharp walls.

That night, he invites the three of them to dinner. Chewbacca and R2D2 entertain themselves aboard the Falcon, which leaves her and Luke alone in his home.

It isn't much, but it surely is ancient. A large cavern digs itself underneath the base of the mountain, protected against rain, wind, and ocean. The technology is older, but not unusable, giving only the basic necessities. It isn't as though Luke needs to lock his doors.

She sits at his small table, where he only has one chair. Rey does not know where to sit, but he gestures to it when they walk in, so she takes it as an invitation. He cooks in the next room, and she examines the space more carefully. Despite the artificial lighting, there's still a live fire in the corner, heating the whole room. There isn't a holo-pad anywhere, nor any communicative technology that could disrupt Luke's peace or track him down.

There are books, though. Ones with actual, real paper, like the one from Han's hidden box. Rey has only seen a few of them in the marketplace on Jakku, where she had been forbidden to touch them. She's only learned to read through screens, like every other youth. She remembers being taught as a child, but very hazily.

Luke disrupts her thoughts as he places a bowl on the table. Inside is soup, still steaming hot, and Rey stares at it. The water is brown, and it smells faintly earthy, but she takes a bite without hesitation. She has had a long day, and has never turned food away in her entire life.

Rey eats every bite and does not think anything of the taste. She isn't sure if it tastes good or bad, only knows that it fills her up very quickly. She even raises the bowl to her lips for every drop, and Luke stares at her the whole time. She only quirks her head at him when she's finished.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Asks, "Where do you come from?"

"Jakku."

He gives her the same look that Han Solo did: pity. She wishes people would stop doing that.

"Did you live there?"

"Yes."

He takes the bowl and disappears. He doesn't ask Rey any more questions for the rest of the night.

Rey wakes up when dawn comes around, her body used to very little sleep. She stretches in the hammock Luke had made for her, and listens to the satisfying pops of her joints. She sleeps in the main room, and it is eerily silent. Every noise she makes feels as though it echoes, even her silent footsteps, where her bare feet are gentle on the ground.

It isn't hard to figure her way around. The island, as a whole, is not large, and Luke's cavern dwelling is only made for one person. Still, Rey leaves without spying, and is greeted with a face full of cold air that sends goosebumps along her arms. She thinks that she's felt cold air before, a long time ago before Jakku.

Rey squints at the cloudy sky. She does not remember much before Jakku, cannot even recall the faces of the family who left her. She can remember ice, though, of catching snow on her tongue. She's never had this memory before, has only been able to recall heat so hot it could melt metal ships. Something about this island brings stillness in her, makes it easier for her buzzing mind to simmer down and focus.

She hikes. The coast is not far, she can hear the roar of waves from here. Her grey vest is puffy, and keeps her chest warm. But there are no parts of her new clothes that flow in the wind, everything is tight and compact against her. Though she knows it's a bit silly, she misses it, though her pilot friend back at the base had mentioned how easily it would be to step on her clothes, and send her plummeting.

The edge of the island comes up close, and Rey is slow to approach it. The side of the cliff crumbles a bit, but sits solid and stable. Rey tests it with a tap of her foot, and backs away a foot or so before lowering herself to the ground. She crosses her legs and stares, expression hard only because the wind makes her eyes water. The sun is behind her, and she can see it reflect against the ocean when the clouds break apart.

Luke finds her when the sun is halfway across the sky. She's thankful for his distance, and doesn't mind it when he lowers himself beside her, mirroring her position. For a few minutes, he doesn't speak, only lets the breeze sweep through his greying hair.

After a while, he leans back and tells her, "This is where I come and think." He raises his metal hand and points higher up the mountain, "There isn't a spot from here to there where I haven't sat and rested. It's important, for a Jedi, to understand the thoughts that run through your head. Knowing what you truly think is what gives you inner peace."

Rey looks to him, and he's staring at her. "There are many ways to train you. I've tried every way I can think of in the past, but each Padawan is different. I haven't done this in a long time, so with you, Rey, I'm going to go back to the beginning and try something I never have before." He smiles, but it's a sad expression. "I know you wish to go back to the Resistance, but together we'll take time in our isolation to train you. Here, we'll focus with no interruptions. Just you, and me, and the Force."

His face is open, and Rey realizes that he's asking her, in a way. She has a choice here, with him. He isn't going to force her to stay.

She nods. He does the same.

"Since we agree, I'll give you your first lesson right now." He takes in a deep breath and straightens his back, "Meditation is an important way to clear your mind and touch the force. It's like a still pool that surrounds you, and when you try very hard, you can create a very small ripple that affects every living thing around you…"

Rey closes her eyes like he does, and feels it.

For three weeks, she does nothing but meditate. At first, it makes her anxious. Luke tells her to run up and down the steps when she feels this way, and she doesn't fear the wet stairs after a few days. However, slowly, the spike of urgent nerves in her gut dies down. After the twentieth day, she can sit down and breathe, and feel nothing but a soothing peace inside her.

Luke tells her that he's proud of her. Impatience was always his worst problem, but he knew she had diligence and calmness the second he met her. She just needed to find it.

He places the Lightsaber on the table during dinner. It makes a loud thud, which makes Rey cough into her soup. "This is yours now," he tells her.

She places her spoon down against the wood, and stares at it. "Mine? What about yours?" She catches his eyes, her own filled with questions.

He looks ready to face the world. "It's time I've made a new one, I've ran from this fight for too long. Part of me has changed and it doesn't call to me anymore. It calls to you now."

He takes her to a planet and teaches her about the crystals there. His new Lightsaber is green.

Training with it takes more time than Rey thought it would. There are different methods, different ways to defend, and different ways to attack. Luke tells her that a Jedi almost always wants to fight defensively, because the opposite causes harm. He doesn't teach her any offensive moves, and Rey does not blame him, with the way his eyes go tired when he thinks about the past.

It takes them two months to learn it, and she still has not mastered how to do it without looking yet. One day, out of the blue, Luke sighs in the afternoon and says, "I wish I had a Remote here."

Rey pauses mid-stroke, and asks him what it is. He explains to her how he used one, in his rushed, early training. Rey cannot help the large grin on her face, one that makes her cheeks hurt. Luke narrows his eyes at her, "What's that look for?"

The Falcon is long gone. Chewie left after their trip to find Luke's new Saber, after Rey had reassured him that she was settled and only a call away. However, she took a few things off of it, and kept them in the small corner of their cavern that Luke gave to her. One of them is the ball he described.

Luke laughs when she pulls it out to show him, and she feels like an excited child looking for a parent's approval. The sound warms her heart, and she realizes that it's the first time she's ever heard it, true and genuine without and sadness or guilt laced behind it. Rey begins to feel comfortable here.

After that, the emotional distance Luke had with her vanishes, as though he's walked over a bridge to finally meet her. He opens his mind to her, and answers any questions she asks. One day, when her eyes are drawn to the silver glint of his hand in the sunlight, she does not hesitate to question him on it.

Instead of the short version, he sits her down for a meal, and tells her the story of his father. The name Darth Vader is familiar to her, and the mask he describes pops up in her mind. She remembers it differently than he does, all bent and melted, and she knows she got the image from Kylo Ren's mind. She tries to shake the thoughts of him away, but they're already there, present for the first time in months.

"What about your Soulmate?" she finds herself asking. "If your tattoo was on that wrist, what happened?" Luke goes quiet, and Rey blinks. "Oh, no, I mean—you don't have to answer that."

"No," he says slowly, once again reminding Rey of his sister, "as your Master, I want to be completely honest with you. When my hand was severed, it felt as though my connection with my Soulmate was cut, as well."

"Was it the Lightsaber that cut the tie?"

Luke shakes his head, "No, I don't think so. Such a bond can't be severed so easily, I think that it was just the right time."

The concept sounds both horrifying and like relief at the same time. Rey cannot imagine not having a Soulmate, but the thought of being separated from Kylo Ren sounds like a blessing. "Were you upset?"

Another sad smile, "Yes, but I learned, eventually, that no one can go against the Force."

He is so honest with her, and Rey feels guilt bubble inside her, feels it flow through her like the waves they live next to. She glances at her own wrist, and squeezes her eyes shut, giving in. "Master," Rey says, voice strained, "I have something to show you."

Her bandages unravel just like they did for Leia. She feels calmer now, though, only slightly wary. As soon as the name is revealed to him, Luke shifts, moving to face her with his entire body. His face is serious, but not angry, upset, or surprised. "I think I knew," he tells her after only a few moments. Most of the time, he does not keep her on edge, and does not make her wait with his replies.

"Did you feel it in the Force?"

He shakes his head, "No, the answer is much simpler than that. I knew Ben. I was there when he was born. I saw the name that was on his wrist, and I have always known that it was Rey." His eyes bore into her own, "We all have. Even Han, and from what you've told me about him, I think he knew when he met you, just like I did."

She doesn't want to think about Han Solo, because it makes her heart hurt. Instead, she asks, "Is that why you didn't want to train me at first?"

"Yes," he sighs. "You know what he did, and what he turned into. I couldn't bear another betrayal, but I know now that there is only light in you. I'm not worried you'll betray me, I'm only worried about what your loyalty will eventually cost you."

His confession makes tears come to her eyes. Rey has tried not to think about it, but it would be a lie to say that she wasn't worried about what would become of her with a Soulmate like Kylo Ren. "How do you know that I won't turn out like him?"

Luke's hands are gentle when they take her own. "Because I know you, and I know that there is patience, and kindness, and strength inside of you. You do not hesitate to fight for what is right. The only turmoil in you is the darkness from him. It seeps into your consciousness through your bond, an unlucky side-effect from the both of you being so strong with the Force. But can you not sense how at peace you've been since you've come here?" He pauses, searches her face. Rey nods, because she has hardly thought of him since she arrived.

"Yes, you do feel it. The meditation and the training has strengthened your endurance. You can block out what you feel from him if you try hard enough. The darkness inside of you, what you have been struggling to fight, is not your own. You are strong, because it has not made you waiver. I am lucky to train you, Rey."

He's startled by the way she shoots from her position to hug him. Her arms are tight around his neck, and his body is warm and solid as he holds her. She thinks that this is what it's like to have a father.

That night, Rey's dreams shift.

The usual gray blankness that greets her at night is gone. Instead, she's faced with a dark sky, pitch black and starless. She squints her eyes to catch the bit of light in the air, and has to try very hard to see the glimmer of town in the distance. It sparkles like a small ball, so tiny she can reach out with her hand and curl a fist around the image of it.

She moves. The ground is uneven, covered in rocks and roots. She stumbles, and catches herself against the trunk of a large tree, the base of it thicker than her entire waist. The heel of her hand scrapes against it, the feeling sharp and stinging. She hisses, fear and pain mix together inside her, and she only wipes the blood against her pants. Her clothes are dark, too, and she blends into the shadows as if she is one.

Still, Rey keeps going, moving towards the light. The air smells like forest, but when the wind shifts, she catches the smell of burning metal. A familiar smell, one of red fire. She tries to move faster, but realizes now that there's a bag on her back, holding her down. The gravity on this planet feels stronger, and the air thinner. Her whole body weeps, begging to stop, just for a moment, but she can't. She holds onto the straps around her shoulders as if they'll ground her.

Something is behind her, chasing her, and if she stops, she dies. She isn't sure how she knows this, there's nothing she can hear, no snuffling of an animal or crunchy footsteps like her own. But there is a tingle on the back of her neck, one that makes her tense and her breathing quick. Rey worries about what's behind her, barely paying attention to what's ahead, can barely dodge tree branches and step over logs. There is a hole up ahead, and she falls into it, her heel sliding against the ring of dirt that opens up into it. But before she hits the bottom, she surges from her sleep, tumbling over in her cot.

Her whole body is covered in sweat, and the warm air from the fireplace makes her feel overheated. She runs a hand down her face, and stares at the wall, panting. There's no way she can sleep after that, her body too wired. Instead of trying, she slips on her shoes, and goes for a run. The air is enough to cool her off.

A single pebble is held in front of her face.

"The Force is strong inside of you," Luke says, a small grin playing on his lips, "but can you make it strong on the outside, too?" Rey knows that he's excited, by the way his body is tight and jittery. She's become good at channeling the Force through her and through her saber, but after five months, Luke wants to take it to a higher level.

"How?"

His smile widens, stretching across his face. His fingers, pinching the small stone, release it into the air. Instead of falling to the dirt, it floats in the space between their faces, rotating and bouncing with the wind. The Force flows off of it in waves, so strong Rey can feel it echo off her puffing breaths.

"Concentrate on it," he tells her. "You know how to manipulate the force around yourself, but directing it around another object is harder." He nods down at her hand, and she quickly raises it, used to his mannerisms. The second her fingers open, the pebble drops to her palm.

Luke's hand covers hers, and he curls her fingers in. "This, like meditation, is to be done alone. We can discuss your progress at dinner."

He leaves her, just like that.

Rey hikes to her usual meditation spot near the cliffs. There, she sits ten feet from the edge, crosses her legs, and drops the rock to the ground in front of her. It buries itself in the grass, but she can see it, black against the green. It's smooth, unlike the other rocks that crumble from the mountain. Luke must have gotten it from the sea.

Her gaze settles on it, and she concentrates as directed, staring very hard. It does nothing. Rey closes her eyes, and tries to find peace in her thoughts, meditating for an hour. She hopes the Force will help her, give her something to follow, but she finds that she cannot give herself to it completely. Her body shifts, her mind wanders.

In the back of her thoughts, there is a small itch, one that she can't escape from. It nags at her, the force of it stronger the more she tries not to open up those dark thoughts. Rey squeezes her fingers into her palm, hard enough for her short nails to make the skin there sting. She tries, but even on the island, she can't escape everything forever. Memories break free like water from a dam, flooding her entire consciousness as though she's reliving them.

Rey finds herself back on Starkiller, and snow sticks to her hair. Goosebumps rise along her arms, even beneath her wrappings. She pants, the air too cold for her lungs. At her side, Finn grasps her hand. They're running.

Kylo Ren greets them. He throws her back with the Force, and seeing him is a harder blow than the tree against her back. Even as she rises in the snow, trying to regain her footing, she can't forget the fact that he is the name on her wrist. Only Finn's cries of agony pull her out of her thoughts.

In desperation, she reaches out to him, begging the universe for help. Luke Skywalker's Lightsaber flies into her hand, and Rey considers that maybe she is given a miracle.

She opens her eyes.

The air, still chilly, is warmer than the snow. Grass is soft beneath her body, twisted into her hands. Across from her, the ocean is still for once, the tide low. And the pebble, which she placed on the ground, trembles, twisting itself into the cliffside. It moves like Rey's fear, like the heart quickly pounding in her chest.

She breathes in the air, steadying herself. When her body relaxes, when the flight-or-fight reflex dies away, she closes her eyes and tries again. Instead of reliving her fear, Rey tries what Luke has taught her. She tries to use her hope instead, though it doesn't come to her as easily now. Her mind feels as though it's covered with a layer of ice, and chills creep down her spine.

It takes a while, but with effort, the stone eventually rises.

The nightmares don't stop.

The horizon here is familiar. Jakku. Rey sees nothing but sand, stretching on and on for miles. The heat is like an old friend, and she coughs when the dry wind swirls dust into her face. On top of her head is the Rebellion fighter helmet, and behind her is her home, a metal corpse. She blinks, pulling the visor away from her face and shaking sand out of her hair.

Rey coughs again, trying to clear her throat, and it burns. She's so thirsty, her throat so parched that she has to crawl inside to take a gulp of water. The inside is like an oven, cooking under the sun, everything almost too hot to touch. The heat feels real. The way her eyes water feels real. Jakku is everything she has ever known, and her waking position was where she was before she met BB-8.

But wait, she did meet him, and followed an adventure because of it. There is a scar on her thigh to prove it, where she had fallen down while hiking with Master Luke and sliced it open on a jutting rock. Rey peels her dirty clothes away, but her skin is smooth, perfect. There is no scar there. For a moment, she feels nothing but pure, unfiltered panic.

And then she gathers herself, looks around. She leaves her shelter, pulling her staff out of the sand and walks. She feels a weight on her body, feels it pulling her to the ground. Not like gravity, this time, but as though her shadow is trying to take her to the core of the planet. When the sun moves overhead, the direction of the pulling changes, grabbing her from the new spot of her shadow. Rey walks until she can't anymore, until she falls to her knees, giving in.

When she awakes, it's a slow, ugly thing. Her body is too cold this time, too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep and dream of something else.

This happens for weeks. They're different, every time, and do nothing but get worse. Rey can tell by the looks Luke gives her that he's worried, but she only trains harder. He can't complain if she's still doing everything right.

The Force seems to enhance her dreams and make them seem real. She feels everything in them that she would when she's awake, although there's a certain buzz, in the back of her mind, that's only there when she is dreaming. Rey learns, after a while, how to notice it.

She sits on the beach of her fantasy island, the one she is most familiar with. The curve of the sandbars and the tall trees are all from her childhood, where she would wish for her family and wait until they came back for her. Here, she has no hope, and only calmly, emptily, stares at the sea.

The waves roll in gently, coming to her ankles. Rey's hands curl around her legs, around her knees, folding her into herself. She pointedly stares ahead, ignoring the figure next to her: Kylo Ren. He stares at the sunset, too, but his body is sprawled out. His mask is nowhere to be seen, but the rest of his outfit is the same. He leans backwards on his hands, his legs extended and crossed in front of him. The waves come over them, roll onto his pants and on his cape. He sits still, like it doesn't bother him. Like it isn't even there.

It's silent for a long time, absent of laughter, of talking. Her family is missing, but she thinks she can stand the loneliness, the quietness, until he starts humming to himself. She doesn't recognize the tune, but it makes Rey shiver, pins and needles running through her with each pulse. She finally turns to him, "What are you doing here?"

He doesn't turn to look at her, but his voice is calm, like it was when he interrogated her. Smug. All-knowing. There is a smile on his lips, she can tell even with his cheek turned to her. "What do you mean?"

Rey releases her legs, turning to face him in anger. "I mean—why are you here? In my dreams? Why do you keep haunting me?" By now, his face is no surprise to her. He's been in her nightmares often enough, but usually, they're running, fighting. This unnerves her.

"Oh, Rey," he sings, "my scavenger. Haven't you realized it by now? I've always been in your dreams, ever since you were a girl. This isn't new."

"I don't understand," she admits, frustrated. She feels as though her hazy, dream-self is missing something.

He moves his face to her, slightly, giving her a hard look. "On this island, it's been you, your family, and who else?"

"My Soulmate," she replies automatically. He doesn't even have to pull the answer out of her. Though she's known it, has known it for months, the direction the answer heads thoroughly shocks her.

He grins, and there is red splattered in his teeth. "You have your answer. I've always been a part of you, waiting. I knew I'd find you." He leans across the space between them and takes her chin between his fingers, his face inches from hers. She glances up, over his shoulders, and sees blood seep into the sea. Her family isn't gone, but dead, their corpses lying flat on the sand.

She looks back at him, in his eyes, and wakes up before his lips can kiss hers. A small solace.

Rey is very good at using the Force to lift things, now. Even with the purple shadows under her eyes, she can breathe in and out, concentrate, and use her new abilities. Pebbles aren't problems anymore, she can lift boulders feet off the ground. They're heavy to her, to her consciousness, but she can do it.

Today, they only hover a few inches. Her heart isn't in it, even if her fingers tremble with the energy she exerts trying. Luke watches her from afar, and it's a surprise when he joins her, helping the weight off her back and shoulders. He raises his arm and the boulder goes up, like it's flying, like it weighs nothing.

"There's something on your mind," he says, and it isn't a question. There is no judgement in his tone, his voice only soft, reassuring.

"Yes," she admits, and lets the weight go. Luke holds it up for a few moments, before gently settling it back in its spot. He's slow to speak again.

"You haven't been sleeping well." Again, not a question.

Rey looks to him, at his weary blue eyes. She cannot lie to him today, but cannot tell him the truth, either. Cannot bear to disappoint him. "Yes."

He doesn't hug her, but his distance feels like a comfort. "You don't have to tell me, but I'm here. You understand that you can come to me?"

She nods, turns to the rock. Even if she can't concentrate, she pushes herself even harder.

Even if she knows she's dreaming, Rey can't wake up from the nightmares that have him in them. She has to force herself to suffer through them, because her body is stuck, paralyzed in her sleep. There is no breaking away from it. She wonders if that's because of their bond, and wishes that she could hate it. Rey knows, deep down, that hate isn't in her nature.

She sits up on her hammock, in the small corner of the cave she and Luke call home. It's dark, and the fireplace crackles, and everything is calm. It looks normal, feels that way, but there's the buzzing in the back of her mind that makes Rey instantly on-edge.

Her eyes scan the room, suddenly alert instead of weary. She places her bare feet on the floor, and walks the room. Though she can't see him, she knows he is there, through the bond. She pokes around the area with the Force, surveying it, sending out waves like a radar. When she pinpoints where he is in the room, her body is suddenly frozen.

Kylo Ren comes from the shadows, as though he melted from them. His mask hides his face from her, and she struggles against the hold. Rey knows that she's strong enough to break his power against her, but in this dream, she cannot escape. She stops straining against it when her mind becomes dizzy, like too much G-force is being placed on her head.

He circles her, watches her, steps slow and agonizing. He moves like dripping honey, taking his time with it as he surveys her form. "What is my name?" he asks, and the words are drawn out, like his motions.

"Kylo Ren," Rey grits out from her teeth. His hold on her hurts, and her brows pull together, both confused and frustrated at his question.

"Yes," he hums, but he sounds very different than he did on the beach. There, he was quiet, at ease. Here, she can tell that this is the calm before a storm, where he has barely enough control to hold himself back for a few short moments. She swallows.

"Why is it that," he starts, "if my name is Kylo Ren, the name on your wrist says something else?" As if to prove his point, he surges forward and takes her wrist between his long fingers. He squeezes, and she can feel the bones grind against each other, his grip leaving dark indigo marks.

Then he throws her wrist away, her body still frozen. He turns, his back to her, pulls out his saber. It ignites, and he slices it against the little furniture that there is in the room. He tears her cot apart, tears the table that sits across from it, where she and Luke eat. He destroys an actual paper picture of Han and Leia, smiling at each other, in love. In between each stream of swings, he yells, voice furious and echoing off of the walls, "I" slice "am" swing "not" smash "Ben" hiss "Solo!"

Rey does not quiver, only watches in silent horror. When he finally swirls around to face her, his mask is bright red against the light of the fire. He stalks to it, pulling out an iron staff, one used to poke at it to keep it lit. Instead of the sharp end, there are letters. When he gets closer to her, Rey can see that it's spells out his name, Kylo Ren.

He stares at her wrist, gaze intent, and she cries out. "No," she begs, realizing what he's going to do. "Please, don't—" She struggles against his prison, but she cannot escape it. When he presses the brand to the skin of her tattoo, sealing her fate, she screams-

"Rey!"

A firm hand shakes her shoulder, breath hot on her face. "Rey, wake up!"

Jutting from her sleep, she moves and slams right into Luke's body. His fingers curl around her arms, holding her in place, and she can only see his face. She glances to the side, and is thankful that, for once, the fire is out, the room dark and cool.

Her breaths are short, panting, on the verge of panic. Tears gather in her eyes, and she can't help the way her lip trembles. "He's there," she finally tells him, "in my dreams." A painful noise comes up from the back of her throat, and Luke pulls her into her arms, a hand on the back of her head. For just a moment, she allows herself to be comforted by him.

Rey stares at the wall as she eats breakfast. Luke sits with her, silently watching, not having left her side. She isn't hungry, but the survival part of her body still refuses to turn away food. She eats her oats and fruit and doesn't taste any of it.

He only speaks once she's finished, and pushed the bowl away. Luke's words are well-thought out and cautious, spoken carefully, "Rey… we're going to D'Qar."

The Resistance base. She blinks up at him, startled from her exhausted stupor, "I'm sorry?"

He straightens, says again, "We're going to D'Qar. Leia sent a request to see us several months ago, and I think your training would be better suited if we did it somewhere familiar."

"This is because of the dreams," she says, growing cold. "Master Luke," a formal title neither of them use very often, "I'm stronger than this, I'm not weak."

His hair falls into his face when he shakes his head. "I know. But this invasion is more than just the Soulmate bond at work. When you told me, a long time ago, that he invaded your mind on Starkiller…" He trails off, and looks away from her eyes. "When he did this, because of your connection, I fear it may have left… remnants."

She looks at him, confusion clear across her face. He goes on, "I don't believe that it's the actual Kylo Ren infiltrating your thoughts. You would know if he was entering your head. Parts of his mind, of his personality, are etched into yours from your meeting… almost like a ghost. Not him, translucent in comparison, but enough to make a difference."

Rey feels helpless. "Will it… am I able to…"

His gaze snaps back to her. "You're strong, but unfinished. I don't blame you, please understand that. This is not your fault. This is open-ended business. I think… I have to confer with my sister. I don't know what to do from here." His admission is quiet, but it shakes her whole world.

"All right," Rey agrees, just as quietly, refusing to let fear seep into her bones. "We'll go back."

Luke contacts them for her, calling for the Falcon. Chewie is there by the afternoon, and greets her with a hug so strong it lifts her off her feet. She is filled with relief when she sees him, as though something dark inside her is melting away.

She helps him pilot the Falcon, though she's a bit rusty at her flying. She can remember the controls well enough, though he does correct her once or twice, for small mistakes. He tells her she still has a lot to learn, the words echoes of something Han Solo told her, a long time ago. The tricky coursework makes it easy to block out her thoughts.

Though the Resistance knows they're coming, Rey doesn't expect such a large welcoming party. Chewie exits first, and then Luke, who the crowd engulfs instantly. They don't touch him, but circle around him, as he and Leia face each other. They stare at one another for a long few moments, before they come together in a tender hug. Rey has never seen Luke smile the way he does into his sister's hair.

Rey lingers behind, gripping a pole on the ramp down, in between the automatic door and the ground. She watches as the others do, but with a distance, a sad, small smile twisting on her face. But even with the buzzing of the crowd, she still hears it, shouted across the landing strip, "Rey!" She searches all of the faces, and her eyes go wide when she sees Finn.

He's farther down, but has his hands in the air, waving them to get her attention. The grin on his face is blinding, and Rey shoots from her hidden spot, pushing past the group of soldiers and straight into Finn's arms. He twirls her around, arms curled around her waist, hands poking at the ticklish part of her ribs. Her hands rest on the back of his neck and the space between his shoulders.

His body is warm, and he smells different than she remembers. Less sterile, more himself, more… oh, there it is. More like Poe. Rey pulls away but her hands reach out to cup his face, palms settling against his cheeks, "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too!" Her cheeks hurt from the smile she has, and she hasn't felt this happy in months. Peace and balance are necessary as a Jedi, but the swell of emotion in her is necessary for her to exist as a person. She clings to him again, eyes closing as she takes in the feel of him, of the security that he provides. It's almost as though she was never away.

They stay that way for a minute or two, before a hand curls around her elbow. "Hey, d'you mind if I cut in?"

Rey lifts her head off of Finn's chest, and blurts out his name, "Poe!"

His smile is hypnotizing, and she is happy to see it, thrilled to be charmed. He pulls her to him, chin resting on the top of her head. "You've changed your hair," he notes.

"Oh," she says in the direction of his ear, reflecting on the way it tumbles down her back, "yes. I guess I have." He releases her, lets Finn join him at her side.

"I like it."

Her face, already flushed from the excitement, goes deep red. She isn't embarrassed, but almost overwhelmed. Poe jabs his elbow at Finn's ribs, nods to her, "Do you guys want to get out of here? The cafeteria has blue-and-orange layered lasagna that's pretty much to die for."

Rey nods eagerly, looking up at Finn, who gives an agreeing smile. "Did you get a lot of pasta while you were with Skywalker?"

"Sort of," she says, shrugging. "To be quite fair, he's not too great of a cook…"

Rey is pulled from her sleep by a loud beeping, the message icon on her tablet blinking in the dark. It's beside her small, military bed, on the metal table. She drowsily grabs it by the corner and pulls it close to her face.

ONE MESSAGE: GENERAL LEIA ORGANA

She taps at the screen before a hologram fills the room. The computer reads the text to her, and bright blue words swirl in front of her face as it follows. "Hello, Rey, I was hoping you'd come to see me. I'll be in the Command Center most of the day if you would like to meet me there this afternoon. Thank you, from General Organa. Signing out."

There's a moment where she just stares, and then she lets the tablet drop back down, her head falling into her pillow. It's too soft for her face, but she's exhausted enough to drift back into rest anyway. Rey is thankful; she has no nightmares.