A Slave's Purpose
“You look good in black.”
Ben had just been shown to his new living quarters through the secret passage behind the tapestry in me and Miratal’s room. I had also given him new clothes; a long-sleeved black shirt with a mock turtle neck, and matching slacks. He had just been let out of his cuffs and allowed to change.
“I knew this room would come in useful. Now we won’t have to go to the dungeons every time we need you. How are you finding it, Jedi?”
Ben sat on the edge of the bed and looked around the room without any particular interest. He had been so emotionless since hearing the recording of the Rebels’ failed rescue attempt. He didn’t seem to care about anything anymore. He gave a halfhearted shrug, not seeming to know what to say.
“It’s a room,” he said flatly.
Mira gave a small sound of exasperation and rolled her eyes, before turning and heading back down the passage towards our room.
I must say I was slightly disappointed in Ben. Breaking him hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as I’d hoped it would be. I had expected more fight out of the Jedi. But hearing that transmission had stolen any hope he had had of being rescued. He also believed many of his friends were dead, and I didn’t at the time see any reason to correct that assumption. One of the things I had learned from Snoke was that hope was a powerful thing; a small amount was indeed useful when dealing with an enemy, but too much could be dangerous…
I contemplated how to proceed from here. I had plans for Ben Solo, but he wasn’t ready for those things yet. He needed just enough motivation, dignity, and sense of purpose to complete his tasks efficiently as a slave, but also be aware of his place and be obedient. A broken slave without a purpose or reason to live was useless. It would be a difficult balance to strike, and he was nowhere near there yet.
Giving him his own space was just the beginning…