Author's Note: This story is an epic continuation of The Force Awakens. Though I've tried very hard to follow canon and make this accurate to lore, I am not a Star Wars expert. Please know that I do not take the lore lightly: I conducted extensive research to try and be as relevant to the existing universe as I can. You will see references made to both the script and the novelization, among other things. However, there are bound to be mistakes, both accidental and purposeful. I assure you that everything I went with was for the story's sake. :)

This was definitely a labor of love, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Forewarning: This story is slow-burn Reylo and has many dark moments.

Please do not read if strong themes may be triggering for you, or if you generally prefer fluffy material – this is not the story you are looking for.

If you're like me and love drowning in angst, then this story is surely for you!

Please let me know if you cry. That is, after all, the goal.

The Red String

By Kristina Marie

Prologue

A bygone legend of a forgotten people once said:
destiny is dictated by a thin, red string.

A binding force, infallible, it stretches across the galaxy, from one soul to another.
Time, distance, and circumstance have no bearing upon it.
It does not bend to one's will, nor can it be severed.
Simply, it exists as fate wills it to.

If one were to follow the string, they would find where such fate leads:
A road they were meant to walk;
A cross they were meant to bear;
A life they were meant to lead;
Or a heart they were meant to love.
All are placed in the hands of another: the one at the other end.
And one would find themselves bonded to them inescapably.
The other, their own selves bound in return,
like one soul split into two.

Apart, each end struggles against the tide.
But the answers they seek lie ahead, not behind,
and to find them is the greatest journey, because
through all, the red thread runs, though some may never discover it.
For those unfortunate souls, such a wondrous phenomenon is impossible to fathom.
For the lucky, star-crossed ones who do, the thin, red string is everything.

When lost, one need only pull on the thread and hold tight,
for it cannot and will not break – steadfast in even the darkest hour.
But oh, when blessed, how each end will meet
and find where they are meant to be:
their belonging, prophetically;
together, finding the balance they seek.

28 ABY

"Jakku would not have been my first choice."

Two old men huddled together outside of a domed hut, bracing against the high winds and blowing sand. It was a reasonable location with its culled land, moisture farming terminals and the accompanying droids, and most importantly, its utter remoteness. It was also the best option they had, and with the light dying quickly, they hadn't much time to be picky. Still, they remained outside of the home, one unwilling to go in and the other delaying his transport.

"I'm afraid it is the best option we have for the infamous Lor San Tekka," Luke Skywalker chided. "No one should think to look for you here among nothing but sand and more sand." At the thought, he drew the hood lower over his brow. More so than Tekka, Luke would undoubtedly be sought. By whom, it pained him to say. It seemed so impossible, and yet, Luke blamed himself. He could have, no, should have seen it coming. After all, his own hands had helped make it so.

Lor San sighed. Pulling a worn, hardbound tome from the satchel he carried, he pressed it into Luke's hands. "I feared this may be our last journey together, old friend. A gift for you. Perhaps my most prized find thus far – the Church of the Force believes it tells of a new prophecy."

Luke couldn't remember the last time he held such an archaic thing. The cover was made of stiff, cracked leather and the pages within yellowed with age. Nodding his appreciation, Luke handed Lor San a small disk in return.

"When the time is right. And until then –" Luke repeated the directions he'd already recited countless times, and Lor San held up a hand to calm him.

"I will watch over her. As long as I survive, so shall the girl."

Farewells were spoken hastily then, old friend bidding strength and luck to old friend. Once Lor San disappeared behind closed doors, Luke boarded the oversized transport ship. The pilot was more than happy to alter his trajectory and include an extra stop – a return to a place Luke had once thought of as home. A single fighter ship awaited him there in an unlisted hangar, its coordinates already programmed and ready for departure.

"Forgive me," Luke whispered to himself, to his students, to his family, and to the galaxy. Most of all, he whispered it to two souls who had no way of hearing him. Two souls who had suffered greatly beneath his watch and by his own doing.

For them, he would wait.