The Art of Broken Pieces (Chapter 1)
By Orangeflightsuit and Sathya (who is not on tumblr)
Rey knew Ben Solo needed her. He’d never fully succeeded in killing his past, and those cornerstones of his life dragged behind him, a weight he refused to process, to grieve, and to forgive. That was what he needed her for. Not to stay his hand, or protect people from his destructive form of help, but when the goodness in him cracked open the seal, and his past came flooding in, threatening to drown him.
Until then, all she could do was stay beside him, which was shaping up to be more difficult than anything she’d ever done. But at least it was action. And if there was one thing she trusted Ben Solo to do well, it was hunt the enemy.
Read the whole first chapter on Ao3
THIS FIC HAS SPOILERS FOR THE LAST JEDI
Ben whirled, lightsaber crackling in his hands, and faced the last standing soldier of the fallen First Order. The Force sang in his blood, dark power that roared in a torrent through his mind. It surrounded him, called to him, made him feel alive and invincible.
He laughed at the visible fear behind the other man’s eyes, even as the soldier lifted his weapon and charged. That fear was a beautiful thing, raw and wild and proof of Ben’s power. It was too easy. He stepped aside like a dancer and the man’s armor and body made a beautiful, futile resistance against his blade, which cauterized even as it killed.
The air filled with the scent of burning flesh. No one ever mentioned the smell in their epic tales of lightsaber battles, as though it were too graphic to support the romantic idea of righteous Jedi. But it was part of the battle that Ben breathed in, along with the hiss of blood that seared away along the edges of the wound.
The song of the Force was deafening now. His body hummed with it, with the power of the universe at his fingertips just waiting to be released. He could feel the villagers, bright points of light in his senses, the fear and determination sparking off of them as they closed around him.
They should be thanking him for saving their tiny lives, but no, the spreading lies of the new government had raised in them some self-righteous fervor to ‘do good’, to throw themselves away for the sake of the universe. It was propaganda; it was shit.
They crawled like ants from the doors of their homes, from their rooftops, from the mouths of narrow streets, faces filled with the determination of those who refused to see how irrelevant they were. Their numbers meant nothing to him. The darkness that crackled through him hungered for their destruction.
A group of them charged from the side alley. He threw out a hand, sweeping them back, both hearing and feeling the snap of bone as several of them struck a wall. Life still flickered in them and the roaring tide in him called for their death. This was power, his power, and they should fear him like all the others!
Her face flickered into his mind, through the fury and the pain that he ignored. Weathered, lined, with sadness and loss haunting her eyes. Even in death she watched him, hoping for something he was incapable of.
With a rough cry he stumbled back, fist closing as he struggled to reign in the power that fought to break free. Holding back the oncoming attackers with a wall of Force, he closed his eyes and fought to find the center that Luke had once forced him to practice.
He had made promises, to himself, to the dead… promises that were so hard to keep. Why bother? The power in him whispered, frustrated. What is the point? You were meant to rule the galaxy… They’re nothing….
Searing pain ripped through his side, a blaster shot that had gotten through while he was distracted, tearing through his jacket and skin and dropping him to one knee as he cried out in pain and anger. The calm that he had been struggling to find shredded away and raw fury burned in it’s place. He should not have come to this! He was their better, should have been their ruler, not hunted for the good of their arrogant leaders! He could see it in his mind as though it were happening, the fires of ruin as he burned their miserable city to the ground and spilled their blood out on the colorless earth.
His center was gone, and in it’s place a tide of darkness and anger driven by pain crashed over him. A small and desperate fear screamed in the back of his mind where he could always feel Rey’s silent connection, held closed stubbornly. Perhaps it was enough to have tried? The Force rose in him and he pulled himself to his feet, feeling the crowd draw back even as they steeled themselves to come at him again.
This was his chance to burn it all and he hungered for it.
Breaking down of the wall between them wasn’t even a choice. The part of him that struggled to find calm, to keep his promises, screamed out for her in desperation. She was all that was left between the dark fury and what remained of his soul. Stop me! Help me…
All that he was and all that he struggled not to be flooded between them as he reached out in panic to the only anchor he had left.
Read the rest of chapter one on Ao3
