[ He doesn't need to give her verbal permission. And yet Rey waits for another cue, any cue, and searches the expressiveness of his eyes for any hint of reluctance. Her gaze flits from one eye to the next before she decides that, yes, he knows precisely what he's asking. Comparatively, Rey doesn't know precisely what it is she's doing, other than the very real feeling that it's all wrong — but by whose standards?
Surely the Jedi, built on a foundation of peacekeeping and heralded as heroes, would disapprove. But the Jedi have all but died out, and they've taken their ideals with them. Luke would caution against it, remind her that this isn't her as she's brought back to herself, but Luke — Luke is gone, and in the wake of his loss, Rey's been left to grapple with who she is. Who she wants to become.
A murderer isn't it. Every life she's taken has been out of necessity, out of some measure of self-defense. This — this drive feels like a want, a need. A predator inside of her rearing its head, demanding blood, the same way it had when she had bared her teeth and circled Kylo Ren's bleeding, battered form splayed out on the snowy forest floor like a sacrifice for the darkness howling inside of her. It terrifies her to think she might return to that viciousness, to that loss of control — that it might be a vital piece to who she is, no matter how fervently she shuns it.
— It's for the good of the galaxy, she tells herself, as she decisively tightens her fingers around the cool metal of her saber's hilt. For justice, and not vengeance.
As it dawns on her that she's begun to lean toward him, she pulls back with a little nod to signal that she's as prepared as she'll ever be. Another step back, and the door opens to Hux, impassive and imperious where he stands flanked by two guards.
'So you've decided to join us'. The muscles in Rey's jaw jump beneath the skin as it clenches in time with her hardened stare. 'I have to admit I expected... more,' he continues, giving her an appraising once-over that suggests he's likened her to shit on his shoe. An insect to be crushed — nothing less, and nothing more. ]
I know what you are, [ she snarls out, anger trembling through the decibels. Hux's responding laugh sounds like glass breaking, harsh and sharp like the cold, unfeeling grin that stretches uncomfortably across his mouth.
'Does she fight your battles for you now, Ren?' The epitome of collected, Hux glides forward — like the slimy, disgusting thing he is — but Rey intercepts his trajectory, to his condescending amusement. 'I suppose she does', he continues, and then clicks his tongue with a dismissive hand as though the conversation is inconsequential. 'I gave him nothing he didn't deserve.' ]
You'll pay for what you've done. [ Adrenaline makes her shake, a quake in her arms that forces her to tighten her grasp on her weapon until her knuckles have blanched and her hands ache from the pressure she's applying.
'Did you want an apology?' He isn't speaking to her. His gaze has pinned Ben, sidestepping her entirely to turn his focus elsewhere. 'A pity. I was so looking forward to a repe —'
The sentence hangs, suspended, in the air. A moment later, and it ends on a pathetic croak as Hux peers downward to the gaping hole seared through his spine and ending at his sternum. Bile begins to rise in her throat at the stench of charred flesh, but she swallows it down and whirls around on her feet to face the stormtroopers that have already drawn their blasters amidst the chaos. She swings out her hand, haphazardly flinging them into the wall to knock them on consciousness. ]
We need to go, [ she chokes out, ignoring what she's done as she yanks at Ben's arm. Later, the conflict will have its opportunity to settle in. For now, she's too preoccupied with dragging him into the escape pod — another facet of the plan she hasn't thought through. It's going to be a tight squeeze with elbows and knees digging into uncomfortable places, but she's willing to sacrifice her comfort if it means getting off of this Force-forsaken ship. ]
"murder is a love language" in a nutshell
Surely the Jedi, built on a foundation of peacekeeping and heralded as heroes, would disapprove. But the Jedi have all but died out, and they've taken their ideals with them. Luke would caution against it, remind her that this isn't her as she's brought back to herself, but Luke — Luke is gone, and in the wake of his loss, Rey's been left to grapple with who she is. Who she wants to become.
A murderer isn't it. Every life she's taken has been out of necessity, out of some measure of self-defense. This — this drive feels like a want, a need. A predator inside of her rearing its head, demanding blood, the same way it had when she had bared her teeth and circled Kylo Ren's bleeding, battered form splayed out on the snowy forest floor like a sacrifice for the darkness howling inside of her. It terrifies her to think she might return to that viciousness, to that loss of control — that it might be a vital piece to who she is, no matter how fervently she shuns it.
— It's for the good of the galaxy, she tells herself, as she decisively tightens her fingers around the cool metal of her saber's hilt. For justice, and not vengeance.
As it dawns on her that she's begun to lean toward him, she pulls back with a little nod to signal that she's as prepared as she'll ever be. Another step back, and the door opens to Hux, impassive and imperious where he stands flanked by two guards.
'So you've decided to join us'. The muscles in Rey's jaw jump beneath the skin as it clenches in time with her hardened stare. 'I have to admit I expected... more,' he continues, giving her an appraising once-over that suggests he's likened her to shit on his shoe. An insect to be crushed — nothing less, and nothing more. ]
I know what you are, [ she snarls out, anger trembling through the decibels. Hux's responding laugh sounds like glass breaking, harsh and sharp like the cold, unfeeling grin that stretches uncomfortably across his mouth.
'Does she fight your battles for you now, Ren?' The epitome of collected, Hux glides forward — like the slimy, disgusting thing he is — but Rey intercepts his trajectory, to his condescending amusement. 'I suppose she does', he continues, and then clicks his tongue with a dismissive hand as though the conversation is inconsequential. 'I gave him nothing he didn't deserve.' ]
You'll pay for what you've done. [ Adrenaline makes her shake, a quake in her arms that forces her to tighten her grasp on her weapon until her knuckles have blanched and her hands ache from the pressure she's applying.
'Did you want an apology?' He isn't speaking to her. His gaze has pinned Ben, sidestepping her entirely to turn his focus elsewhere. 'A pity. I was so looking forward to a repe —'
The sentence hangs, suspended, in the air. A moment later, and it ends on a pathetic croak as Hux peers downward to the gaping hole seared through his spine and ending at his sternum. Bile begins to rise in her throat at the stench of charred flesh, but she swallows it down and whirls around on her feet to face the stormtroopers that have already drawn their blasters amidst the chaos. She swings out her hand, haphazardly flinging them into the wall to knock them on consciousness. ]
We need to go, [ she chokes out, ignoring what she's done as she yanks at Ben's arm. Later, the conflict will have its opportunity to settle in. For now, she's too preoccupied with dragging him into the escape pod — another facet of the plan she hasn't thought through. It's going to be a tight squeeze with elbows and knees digging into uncomfortable places, but she's willing to sacrifice her comfort if it means getting off of this Force-forsaken ship. ]