Rey sat on the cliff face, overlooking the islands in the distance and swung her legs over the edge. She was supposed to be cultivating the art of farsight, tapping into the Force to sense pending danger, but her mind was restless. She longed to be flying the Falcon, off exploring worlds she’d only dreamed about or seen through flight simulators. She smoothed out a bare patch of dirt among the moss and stones, letting her fingers wander, tracing a series of simple designs she remembered from…somewhere.
Luke was always practicing farsight anyway and deftly attune to the distant menace that was the First Order, so what was the point? Every time she tried, she found herself looking straight into the eyes of that monster, the one she apparently used to know as “Ben.” The one who used to tell her stories that made her laugh. The one who gave her piggyback rides and cuddled her when the Force raged in electrical storms. The one who – she almost gasped, the memory came to mind so clearly – gave her her first lightsaber lesson.
She remembered a clearing in a forest where the scent of resinous trees was heavy in the humid air. She’d not remembered shady green like that before now, and recalled the dappled sunlight caressing his face as it broke into a grin.
“That’s it!” he encouraged with a laugh as she lunged at him with her tiny training saber. He swung low to block a sting to the knees, but he nearly missed. She was small but lightning quick. He stepped back, panting, signaling that the lesson was over. “You wore me out, Little One.”
“What’s up there?” She pointed to a spot high up on the treed slope.
He followed her gaze. “A guest cottage. We’ll be staying there tonight with Doctor Snoke.”
The little girl was only half listening as her gaze focused on a shadow under the trees. “There’s a woman watching us.”
“That’s her now – Amanda Snoke.” He deactivated his lightsaber and shoved a hand through his dark unruly hair. “She’s a friend of mine.”
Little Rey watched the woman a moment longer then peered up at Ben with doleful eyes. “Do we have to stay with her?”
He dropped to a crouch before the five-year-old and looked her in the eye. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like the way she looks at me.”
He turned to look up at the woman again and frowned. “How can you tell? She’s so far away.” When the little girl shook her head, he took her by the hand. “Don’t worry. She’s a lot of fun. She’ll show you how to play Dejarik and teach you how to write your name.”
“I want to learn now!” Rey squirmed excitedly. “Show me how to write my name!”
She watched as he picked up a twig and scratched eight symbols in the damp earth.
“I’ll let her teach you your name,” he told Rey as he finished, “but this says Little One.” He handed her the stick. “You try.”
She took it eagerly and made her marks alongside his.
“Words have power,” he told her, his voice adopting a serious tone. “Don’t write them unless you mean them.”
The little girl nodded, filing the information away in her young mind. She knew that many species could not read and write and those who did had an advantage over those who didn’t. She felt powerful drawing the lines in the dirt and couldn’t wait to learn more. She looked up at her teacher. “Is this good, Ben?”
She thought her heart would burst with joy as he tousled her hair and smiled. “It’s very good, Little One.”
Luke’s grave tone brought Rey out of her memory and back to Ahch-To. She looked to where his boot smeared her handiwork in the earth – Little One, it said – but he didn’t give her a chance to answer. It was just as well, she thought, because she didn’t know what to say.
“Is there a reason why you were calling upon a Sith spirit?”
@MyKyloRen 12 July 2016