[ He'll be there when Han Solo arrives, waiting with ill-disguised impatience. His lightsaber is clipped to his side, his glass shoulder swaddled in fabric and buried under layers of clothing. He holds himself rigid—there's no concealing the infirmity when he moves. ] Well? [ His voice rings out before Han can speak. There's an edge to it, an eagerness.
Beneath the canopy of stars he looks small. They both do. ]
[Han spends the brief walk up thinking of what to say, but by the time he makes it-- sees Kylo Ren standing there, an absence among the stars until he turns enough for his father to see the uncannily familiar cut of his profile-- he hasn't come up with anything yet.
Tell me what changed. It's on the tip of his tongue but it gives too much away. Too direct, he thinks. The other man-- he can't quite fit the pieces together to look at his murderer and think my son, not yet-- will withdraw, resenting the insistence on their connection, the past Han hasn't lived yet and that Kylo Ren, apparently, wants to forget.]
I want to know why.
[He blurts it out almost before he's stopped moving. Why everything, really, but they can begin with the only part of their shared history Kylo is willing to admit to.
Like most of Han's ideas, it's either a really good one or a terrible one. He's not sure.]
[ The question, once voiced, strikes him as inevitable. Han Solo has been a long time in asking it—Kylo's resolute indifference toward the man falters, and he wonders if it's taken him all this time to prepare for the answer. ] Leia [ he says her name as though he might cut his tongue on it ] thinks she can change the past. [ Or thwart the future—different names for the same folly.
Kylo approaches Han with measured steps. A touch defiantly, he stares him in the eye. ] Is that what you believe?
[Is that what he believes? It's a nice fantasy, but skeptical as he is Han doesn't see the point of it. The thing is, here, it doesn't matter; Kylo's past is his future, and yet the two of them now are face to face, living and breathing. It's more apt to say he hopes to change the future. But that's not quite right, either. He isn't sure there's anything here to change.]
We're both stuck here for now. [He shrugs. What's the point of attempting to change something that's already happened?] I'm just trying to understand.
[ A snag in his expression, not quite a wince and not quite a sneer. Understanding—the thought pierces some part of him, or simply, like a flash of light, exposes the hole.
He could dismiss the question outright, tell Han Solo he has no hope of comprehending something that will happen to a timeworn old man trying to call his son home. He doesn't. He owes him that much. ] You're more like him than—I expected. [ His voice, rough with emotion, hardens. ] But you've never wanted to understand the Force.
[How should he be, who should he be, but himself? That will be a question to mull over for some time. Han can recognize that he's changed quite a bit over the past few years, that of course things must be different for a married man, a father-- but-- and this is too much to put into words, even in the privacy of his mind-- there's something he recognizes, there, or at least he can see the potential. Listening to Ben's voice-- it felt, simply and inexplicably, like the voice of his son, not some stranger. He doesn't know their history, can't imagine it, but he can feel how it rings true.]
Is that what this is about? [There's a slight frown touching his mouth, though he takes half a step nearer.] I want to understand you. Us.
[There must be more to the young man than some superstitious power.]
It's everything. [ Flat. Contemptuous. What might once have been an argument is history. If Han Solo wants to dismiss the Force, if he thinks there's understanding to be found outside of it, let him.
This time, when his father steps forward Kylo stands his ground. ] Like you said, we're stuck here. [ His eyes lift to the stars, and for an instant his gaze is younger, searching. ] Imagine the universe where you had a choice.
[That answer isn't much of an answer. Impatience and frustration flare up, a momentary and overwhelming impulse to demand something straightforward. He does little to hide it-- and how could he? As Kylo says, the Force is unavoidable-- but he tempers it, thinking of his son's gaze, bright and intent even in the flickering little holo, his irrepressible laugh. Patience is hard-won, but it's important enough here that he's trying like hell to follow.
If he had a choice-- well, what choice could he make? He doesn't understand the Force. There's nothing he could do, in that regard, to teach the boy. Wouldn't Leia and Luke take the lead there?
But it's not everything. Still. It's what Kylo won't let go of. So maybe he has to understand. Shaking his head, he follows his son's gaze.]
[ He looks sharply at the other man. His stare bearing down on him, unrelenting. ]
Kylo Ren isn't just a name. [ In the endless march of questions, no one's thought—cared—to ask. As he begins talking, he finds the words have been waiting for him. He finds he wants to explain. ] It's a title, and a distinction—I am a Knight of Ren. [ Said with bristling pride. It can't mean anything to Han Solo, and Kylo doesn't expect it will interest him either. ]
I've sacrificed for it. [ He falters, half a breath from invoking Ben Solo. Recovers. ] I've earned it.
[Han hasn't thought to ask, though it's not as if they've had much opportunity before now. All he's known is the other half of it; the name Kylo so intently left behind him, the name his parents gave him. The man he chose to become instead is something else. Frightening, by design.
There's been little reason to get to know him. Kylo Ren wants to be their enemy, their doom; at least, so it's seemed.]
I believe that. [And that's the honest truth; he doesn't doubt the young man's skill, his dedication; only the end he's serving.] I've never heard of them.
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outer_space) wrote2016-02-28 11:31 pm
no subject
[ He'll be there when Han Solo arrives, waiting with ill-disguised impatience. His lightsaber is clipped to his side, his glass shoulder swaddled in fabric and buried under layers of clothing. He holds himself rigid—there's no concealing the infirmity when he moves. ] Well? [ His voice rings out before Han can speak. There's an edge to it, an eagerness.
Beneath the canopy of stars he looks small. They both do. ]
no subject
Tell me what changed. It's on the tip of his tongue but it gives too much away. Too direct, he thinks. The other man-- he can't quite fit the pieces together to look at his murderer and think my son, not yet-- will withdraw, resenting the insistence on their connection, the past Han hasn't lived yet and that Kylo Ren, apparently, wants to forget.]
I want to know why.
[He blurts it out almost before he's stopped moving. Why everything, really, but they can begin with the only part of their shared history Kylo is willing to admit to.
Like most of Han's ideas, it's either a really good one or a terrible one. He's not sure.]
no subject
Kylo approaches Han with measured steps. A touch defiantly, he stares him in the eye. ] Is that what you believe?
no subject
We're both stuck here for now. [He shrugs. What's the point of attempting to change something that's already happened?] I'm just trying to understand.
no subject
He could dismiss the question outright, tell Han Solo he has no hope of comprehending something that will happen to a timeworn old man trying to call his son home. He doesn't. He owes him that much. ] You're more like him than—I expected. [ His voice, rough with emotion, hardens. ] But you've never wanted to understand the Force.
no subject
Is that what this is about? [There's a slight frown touching his mouth, though he takes half a step nearer.] I want to understand you. Us.
[There must be more to the young man than some superstitious power.]
no subject
This time, when his father steps forward Kylo stands his ground. ] Like you said, we're stuck here. [ His eyes lift to the stars, and for an instant his gaze is younger, searching. ] Imagine the universe where you had a choice.
no subject
If he had a choice-- well, what choice could he make? He doesn't understand the Force. There's nothing he could do, in that regard, to teach the boy. Wouldn't Leia and Luke take the lead there?
But it's not everything. Still. It's what Kylo won't let go of. So maybe he has to understand. Shaking his head, he follows his son's gaze.]
I have a choice. I'm trying to understand, now.
[He needs some help to get there.]
no subject
Kylo Ren isn't just a name. [ In the endless march of questions, no one's thought—cared—to ask. As he begins talking, he finds the words have been waiting for him. He finds he wants to explain. ] It's a title, and a distinction—I am a Knight of Ren. [ Said with bristling pride. It can't mean anything to Han Solo, and Kylo doesn't expect it will interest him either. ]
I've sacrificed for it. [ He falters, half a breath from invoking Ben Solo. Recovers. ] I've earned it.
no subject
There's been little reason to get to know him. Kylo Ren wants to be their enemy, their doom; at least, so it's seemed.]
I believe that. [And that's the honest truth; he doesn't doubt the young man's skill, his dedication; only the end he's serving.] I've never heard of them.