Notes: The initial idea for this fic was 'post-canon Ben is put on trial', but in the process of writing it, I realised that there isn't really much left of the institution that would otherwise deal with such issues. Then it sort of transformed into a 'what-if' look at how people would pick up the pieces from the mess they've ended up with after the war. Not sure if I was going for realism or if I just find the amount of possibilities fascinating but in any case, here's the final result. Hope it's enjoyable and feedback is always welcome!

The interrogation had been going on for over an hour by the time Rey noticed the force field around the Chandrilan Senator's seat. It was, ironically, the first sign she'd received that things were going well.

The previous times this had happened, the shields around the local ruler had always been easy to spot. On a few memorable occasions, the meeting had only happened after Ben had been led into something that resembled an actual cage far too much for her comfort. But here? The only protection between the platform she and Ben occupied and the Senator's seat consisted of his cuffs and a rather weak force field.

It encompassed her and her two guards and only flickered from time to time, but it was a significant enough detail for Rey to focus on. It wasn't exactly a display of trust, but, well. They were getting there. Subtle changes made all the difference in these situations, she had found, and thinking about that made the increasingly tense verbal sparring in her immediate surroundings easier to ignore. She was supposed to be a neutral observer; a voice of reason. It wouldn't do anyone any favours if she snapped.

Still, it was— difficult, especially with Ben as close to her as he was and the apprehension that she was almost choking on. Whether it belonged to him or to her, Rey wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. The less she thought about it, the more its hold on her eased.

"But you take no responsibility for Starkiller Base?" When Rey tuned back in, the Senator had finally looked up from the screen in front of her to fix her eyes on Ben.

"None."

The statement wasn't a surprise by now. He'd repeated it during every interrogation (interview, as they liked to call it on some planets) so far and the news had spread around quickly, becoming more and more credible the more leaders agreed to trust him. It hadn't completely pacified the masses – not with how unclear the possibility of any actual proof was – but there was still a change; Rey could feel it in the crowds that surrounded them wherever they went.

She was one of the few people left alive who knew everything about what he'd done – the good and the bad – and she was a war hero. More than that, Rey and the whispers of her control over the Force were a promise of better times returning and as hopeful as the idea made her, it terrified her just as much. Everyone expected her to do the right thing in every possible situation and the pressure was immense, considering that Rey wasn't quite sure what 'the right thing' even consisted of at this point.

"And yet admit that you had a part in everything else you've been accused of?"

"Yes."

"And everything that has been said in your defence?"

"Yes."

"How did you kill your Supreme Leader?"

Another frequent question. It was only natural for people to find satisfaction in the gory details, Rey supposed, but it was still wearisome. If Ben's clipped response was anything to go by, he felt the same way.

"I cut him in half with a lightsaber."

The confession had the desired effect, it seemed – unlike the majority of his statements, equally blunt and honest, this one usually managed to gain him a little support from everyone.

"What caused you to do that?"

Ben's eyes darted towards her. Several of the cam droids whirled closer.

"We were told that you saved her life," the Senator prompted with a nod towards Rey, tone tentative as if she didn't want to disrupt the pacing of the interrogation. No one really knew how to address her in such an official setting, she'd noticed, and it was as frustrating as it was amusing.

Ben gave a quick nod. He wasn't an awfully good liar, but deception and half-truths were what he was best at. "Yes."

"Although you were still under his command?" Rey shifted in her place. The questions were rarely so in-depth and while she wasn't the one who needed to answer them, she definitely felt like it. "After years of – according to your own words – working under his influence?"

"Yes."

The Senator faltered. Ben usually answered all his questions with monosyllables, so Rey doubted that that was the problem: it was likely more about the nature of the question that followed, as if she wanted to make sure that she'd understood right the first time around, "But you take responsibility for every order you carried out?"

"I do."

Predictably, the fifteenth 'Would you elaborate on that?' of the day didn't come. Ben had told this particular story – about Snoke, how he'd got in touch with him and everything that had followed – exactly once in public; during his first interrogation and to the increasing discomfort of everyone present. No one had brought it up since. The Senator swiftly changed the topic.

"The others who followed you on your way to the Resistance – the ones you refer to as the Knights of Ren – what about them?"

A moment of silence. "I take full responsibility for them too."

"Would you care to elaborate on that?"

"They were under my command," Ben said and despite his carefully maintained composure, Rey could feel his impatience at how long this was taking. "Still are. They respond to no one but me."

"I see. And you achieved this through— what kind of conditioning, exactly?"

"None." It was a significantly better idea to be quiet, anyone in his situation would have known that, but apparently Ben couldn't help himself. "If you would let me talk to them—"

"You will be free to do that once you're sent back to your ship," the Senator said, a bit less benevolent now. "As long as you cooperate, you can rest assured that they'll be safe."

"It's hard to accept such a reassurance when they haven't been offered the same accommodations as me."

"Your personal history with Hanna City needed to be taken into account when making those decisions, Lord Solo." The Senator's voice had adopted a defensive edge, either in response to Ben's icy tone or to the fact that no one was entirely sure how to refer to him either. It was all for show, Rey knew, and they had to make sure that everyone saw them being either forgiving or merciless depending on what people wanted to see, but it was still nearly painful to deal with.

"I don't see how that has anything to do—"

"If you opt to leave the planet when we're done here, no one will stop them from following your example." Ben had just started raising his voice, but the Senator had managed to beat him to it. They didn't have the authority to keep any of them here – not unless the New Republic managed to rise from the ashes in the next two days, Rey supposed – but this wasn't what the public trials were for, especially the ones across the Core Worlds. They were about hope, most of all; hope that anything at all could rise from the ashes to begin with. The last Supreme Leader of the First Order changing his allegiance at the end of the war, supported by the last known Jedi, represented precisely that. "You may see them tomorrow as soon as we come to a decision."

Rey took that as her cue to get up to her feet just as everyone else got to the same conclusion. A dismissal would follow soon, she was well-versed enough in this to be able to tell by now, and somehow she'd found herself assigned as Ben's near constant companion every time he was questioned. People would feel more secure that way, she'd been told. If Luke Skywalker's last student (a role that she'd been given far too much credit for when compared to the time she'd actually spent with him, Rey sometimes thought) believed that the Force-sensitives they had gathered here – no matter how corrupted – could be saved, then they would trust her.

That was exactly how the two of them had ended up travelling together, really. Her presence had been celebrated everywhere they'd visited so far and she'd thought that Chandrila's warmer welcome when it came to Ben had been provoked by their combined efforts on other planets. Now, as they exited the hall, she wasn't so sure.

"'Personal history'," Rey repeated once they were out of everyone's earshot. There was no way for them to not draw attention to themselves – she'd tried to dress in the closest thing she'd found to Jedi robes in the city and Ben was stubbornly clinging to the clothes he'd worn while he'd still been with the First Order – but it was as much privacy as they ever got. "What did she mean?"

"I was born here." Ben was quieter than he had been inside, head lowered and hands still kept in place in front of him by the cuffs, and something in the words made Rey slow down to chance a look at him. "Chandrila is my homeworld."

"Oh." It made sense, of course, that he'd have one – everyone was born somewhere – but for some reason, Rey hadn't expected this. "In this city?" She stared out through the windows in the hallway. It was nearing twilight and the countless buildings outside were bathed in the sunset's deep red shades; the last rays of sunlight bright enough to make everything down below look like it was on fire. "Where?"

Ben scoffed. "It's not like the entire city is visible from here," he said, as if the notion itself was ridiculous. "It was— can you see the tower with the blue rooftop? Our district started there. There was a large field nearby; when I helped Father prepare the—" Ben's voice died abruptly. Despite his many excuses and explanations when he was being interrogated, for the most part he was unbothered by everything he was being accused of, whether it was the truth or not. The feeling that rose up inside him now was more devastating than anything she'd sensed from him in a long time, to the point where not reacting to it was a struggle. "It's too far for you to see now."

Acutely aware that she was supposed to follow him, Rey remained frozen in place, eyes fixed on the spot he'd gestured to. It really was too far away for her to be able to distinguish anything and it had likely changed almost entirely over the last twenty years, but. It was impossible to shake away the realisation that this had been a home once. She tried to imagine what it had been like before the war and Snoke and the First Order and the thought filled her with a strange, undecipherable mix of anger and longing that Rey couldn't – didn't want to – address just now.

Halfway across the corridor, Ben had stopped in his tacks when he'd realised that he was alone. "What is it?"

"It's nothing." They turned the corner together once she'd caught up with him and before she knew it, they'd arrived at his quarters and Ben was extending his arms towards her so that she could deactivate the cuffs. There were guards here too, even if their presence was significantly subtler than it had been in the hall – they'd at least made the effort to stand far away enough to not stand in the way.

Ben spared them another look, this time a little more anxious than Rey thought he'd planned to display. He'd meant to go right inside and she didn't have the time to wonder what had made him hesitate before he spoke again.

"My knights," he started, words barely audible, "I know I don't have the right to make demands, but I need you to take over if something goes wrong."

"Ben, we're leaving tomorrow." There had been no hint – not as far as she'd been able to tell – that that wouldn't be the case, but the urgency behind his every gesture suggested otherwise. "What could go wrong? You heard the Senator; they're free to leave with you."

"Just promise me," he insisted, one hand gripping her forearm like she was a lifeline. Rey could practically feel the guards tense at the movement, but they did nothing to stop him. For now. "They won't trust you as much as they trust me, but you can work with them, I'm sure of it."

"Okay," Rey nodded, almost despite herself. She would have figure out where this had come from, but it would have to be later, without two pairs of eyes watching every move they made. This wasn't the kind of subject that either of them would like to discuss in public and the fact that he'd even brought it up here was enough of a tell as to how desperate he was. "But I don't even really know them."

"I'll show you." Even if she was a little startled by the image suddenly shoved into her mind, Rey recovered quickly enough to be able to take it in fully. It was as if she'd suddenly found herself in a training room of some kind, with a row of people staring at her (or at Ben, really; it was coming from his mind, wasn't it?). She recognised them vaguely, although even as of late, they'd rarely taken their helmets off in anyone's presence but their Master's unless they'd been forced to. Her eyes focused on the man in the far left first – his deep brown hair and prominent features – and Rey could hear Ben's voice echoing in her mind.

"Caderon," he said just as Rey's attention switched to the second person – a woman, almost identical to the knight next to her, "and his sister Marari. The unspoken leaders when I'm not there; you can count on them. Caton, on the other hand," another shift, this time to a younger one with a cautious expression and a heavier uniform than he looked like he could carry, "is a bit more unreliable. He will listen, but you can't trust him under pressure." Rey nodded, not entirely sure whether he could see her or not. The answer was yes, apparently, because the next thing she knew, they'd moved on again.

The next pair of knights looked almost as if he was hiding them purposefully in the dark, modifying his own vision to keep them out of reach. There was something protective in the air around it all when Ben spoke again to introduce them and Rey realised with a start that they were noticeably younger than everyone else. "Zan and Bizion might seem intimidating, but they're harmless once you take their weapons away, which I'm sure the local authorities have done a long time ago. If you tell them I sent you, they'll be no trouble. And then there's Adriayl." His tone was all amusement now and Rey wasn't at all surprised by the sight that greeted her next – the long, dark red hair and perpetually narrowed eyes of the other woman; the one she hadn't spoken a word to but who had managed to make a lasting impression from the very first time. "I suppose you remember her."

"I do." The knight in question had attempted to gouge her guard's eyes out with nothing but the Force on her side when the Resistance had first taken Ben's company into custody once he'd decided to join them. Rey wasn't sure she'd manage to forget the sight of that particular narrowly avoided bloodshed at any point in the near future.

"She doesn't like being touched by anyone she doesn't know well," Ben said and Rey could picture the easy shrug that the statement had been accompanied by. "Or being restricted, for that matter. If it ever comes to that, be patient with her. She's strong with the Force, but that's not all there is to it."

"I don't understand why it would ever come to that," Rey said, still bewildered by the sudden insistence for her to take control over something that had always been fully his. "If there's something you've heard—"

"Didn't you mention that you had a public dinner scheduled tonight?" Ben asked unceremoniously, as if he hadn't just cut her off in the middle of a sentence. Rey eyed him with mild disbelief. "You might want to take a look at your wardrobe first, or you'll be late."

It was a feeble attempt at a distraction – he had been the one to give her advice on the clothes earlier and he knew full well what she would wear – but Rey decided to allow it. We'll talk later, she sent his way and received a curt nod in return. Without waiting a moment longer, Ben disappeared behind his bedroom door.

o.O.o

The dinner had gone about as well as Rey had expected. The food had been excellent – it always was at those places, she'd noticed; regardless of how war-torn they still were, there was always something left to be found for the last known remaining Jedi and it didn't matter how many times she tried to imply that there were countless people out there who needed it more; all she got in return were endless endeared smiles at how generous she was still being. It was as heart-warming as it was frustrating and as ungrateful as it made her feel, Rey was usually all too happy to excuse herself early on.

Plus, tonight she didn't have to wander aimlessly around the building before finally returning to her bedroom for the night. She had a specific goal in mind this time and the more she thought about it, the more obvious it had seemed what she had to do. Rey slowed down as she reached her destination, coming to a halt in front of the already familiar sight of the place she'd thought about all night.

There was someone new coming. The realisation of it came slowly, as if they were trying to be quiet, and Ben turned his back to the door, determined not to let himself wake fully. No one had bothered to offer him any privacy anyway; why should it matter this time? It would be a long day and—

Rey quickly retracted the tentative tendrils of the Force that she'd extended towards his mind as Ben's line of thought devolved into the near-incomprehensive territory of dreams once more. He'd felt her, but he was too tired to recognise her and right now, it was just as well. She nodded to the guards at the entrance and snuck inside as quietly as her new, rather impractical clothes would allow, plunging the room into darkness again as the door slid closed behind her.

Even that way, it didn't come close to the pitch black of the nights on Jakku. There was too much noise here; too many lights and too many lives in the city outside of the large windows that allowed her to easily make her way between the furniture once she bunched the flowing skirt of her dress into her fists. It was made from a fabric so gentle that she could barely feel it on her skin and it still felt strange to wear something so flighty, but it was what the locals preferred and she was nothing if not adaptable. She'd even let her hair down and had woven in it the small jewels she'd received among the many gifts of gratitude from the citizens of this planet. It brushed her bare shoulders and it made her tense occasionally with how foreign it was, but— it was all a matter of time, she supposed.

A lot of things were. The idea that everyone and everything she cared about was safe still hadn't sunk in completely and that she'd had such a big part of it, that she was hailed as a hero wherever she went was a much more complicated notion to deal with than the clothes she was given on each planet. Rey forced herself to focus back on the present. It was easier to think of the big picture in quieter moments like this one, but also distracting, especially when she already had so much on her mind.

She took a quick look around the room as she disposed of the package she'd arrived with on one of the desks. It was not unlike the ones that had preceded it – a cage, if a beautiful one – and the bed in the middle of it was absurdly large given Ben's current status, but Rey was grateful for that just now. She was just light enough to lie down near the edge without disturbing him at all. The fact that Ben had got used to her almost constant presence over the past few weeks likely helped too, and even though he still had his back turned to her in his sleep, he let her in easily enough when she reached for his mind again.

Dreams were a strange thing to witness, she'd found, especially his. It was all colours and faces and fragments of memories, sometimes recognisable, sometimes entirely foreign. His family, at different ages and accompanied by different feelings, made frequent appearances, as did she— and that one was from yesterday, of the time when they'd entered the hall, but it dissipated almost as quickly as the others had and Rey found herself staring at an already painfully familiar control panel from too close up for the point of view to be her own. Her hands as she reached for some of the controls were smaller too and her surroundings – the daylight streaming in, the field stretching in front of her and the very tangible presence of someone else in the ship – were all the proof she needed that this wasn't her dream. It wasn't even a dream, more like a memory inside one, and despite her reservations concerning this particular way of using the Force, Rey observed carefully.

"—when you're a little older," a voice – vaguely familiar but not enough for her to be able to place it – was saying.

"Everyone always says that," Ben whined. It was obvious, now, that it was his eyes she was looking through – it was even his hair in her face as he shook his head in displeasure.

"I only say it when it's true." The careful balance that Ben had on his seat shifted dangerously as he twisted around to face the speaker and Rey's breath caught on a gasp. "Not my fault you can't reach. But you can still make a turn, see," Han Solo consoled. It worked like a charm, with Ben's indignation dissipating immediately in favour of excitement. "Remember where your mother said she was going this morning?"

"Yes."

"Can we face the building?"

"From this close to the ground?" Even as he asked, Ben's fingers curled around throttle he right in front of him as he prepared for the manoeuvre.

"Why not?"

Slowly, through their combined efforts, the Falcon started turning. Rey could feel the weight of the ship as it shifted until it was almost fully facing the Senate House and—

Ben's breathing hitched, the dream shattering as he tensed and pawed every flat surface around him for a weapon before awareness settled in fully and he stilled in his place. "Rey."

He still hadn't turned to face her; Rey used the opportunity to make herself comfortable back into her own body. It had been highly disorienting to see the exact same spot she was in right now, only from twenty years ago through someone else's point of view. "Yes."

"Who let you in?" He dragged his body into a sitting position and blinked down at her as if the sight of her would explain anything at all. "There are guards at the door."

"There are." They were being watched from every corner of the room, really, and a hysterical sort of laughter bubbled up at the contrast between that and the lavish interior: she had never seen a better representation of just how much they didn't know what to do with him. "And they're there to keep you from coming out, not to stop anyone else from coming in."

The implications of that were either completely lost on him, or Ben had just decided not to deign it with a response. It was difficult to tell sometimes, but she guessed it was the latter – it was his behaviour from earlier that had brought her to that particular realisation, but she could understand why he wouldn't want to voice it. This was one of the last planets they'd planned on stopping on and it was public knowledge. If anyone wanted to act against him in any way, now would be the time. "How much longer before we have to go?"

"Three hours."

"Better get ready, then."

"Not yet." Rey reached out to put a hand on his shoulder before he'd managed to get up. She thought about the cameras again and the thought was a strangely unwelcome one all of a sudden. No one would care if they just sat here together, but the concept of anyone knowing in the first place was still an uncomfortable one. "There's still some time left. I—" This was ridiculous. She had said significantly worse things to his face without flinching and this was what she was having difficulty with? "I brought you something."

Ben pushed his hair out of his eyes, quickly scanning the room before fixating on what she guessed was the only change in it that had occurred since last night. "What is this?"

"Clothes. For you," Rey clarified, as if there was a chance he hadn't understood. "For the meeting tomorrow. I wanted to return the favour."

The package was in his hands the moment he reached for it and Ben tore the wrapping paper open to examine its contents with a frown.

"I have my own clothes prepared already."

"I was thinking that those could work better." If his rapidly darkening expression was anything to go by, Rey's attempt at casualness had failed miserably. She'd tried to mimic his behaviour from earlier, the easy nonchalance when he'd told her what would be advisable for her to wear, but they could both recognise the differences in the situation. "It'll be a really hot day."

"And it's what they wear here." He lifted the piece of cloth on top of the pile and examined it quickly. "I know what you're trying to do. It might work for you, but it won't for me."

"There's no reason for it not to," Rey soldiered on. He'd seen right through her, of course, but she hadn't really expected anything else; not when she was standing right in front of him looking unmistakably like a native with every detail of what she'd put on. Do as the locals do always seemed like the most sensible option and it hadn't failed her yet. "You would look much more sympathetic to them if—"

"If I tried to blend in, yes, but I don't think that's possible anymore." Ben crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking more resolute than she'd ever seen him about anything. "It doesn't matter what I dress as. If they want to remember the First Order, then that is all they'll pay attention to. There's nothing else to see, is there?"

There wasn't. Rey had nearly singlehandedly attempted to broadcast what she could about his rather impressive contribution to the Resistance's victory – Snoke's death, mainly, as well several of their very last machinations before the end of the war – but it hadn't helped all that much when everything else had been weighed against it. It made some of the fractions of what was left of the New Republic more willing to absolve him, but it didn't do much for the general public's opinion. Despite her best efforts, every trial and interrogation was still a highly publicised affair and he was paraded on the streets of every capital their fleet landed in. Rey had plenty to deal with – interviews of her own, every single one of which had been easier to handle than the realisation that almost everyone in the galaxy knew what she looked like now – and it was a relief to see that Ben genuinely didn't seem to care much.

But he had been doing this all his life, hadn't he? Being the son of legends and then one of the faces of the First Order had prepared him for this and he dealt with it just fine; steeling himself and keeping his expression as natural as it could get until he was hidden away from everyone's sight once more.

He made an entirely different picture when left alone. Even when she wasn't with him, the alternating waves of irritation and boredom and a peculiar mix of both coming from him were enough to make Rey lose her focus every now and then. It was overwhelming when piled on top of everything else and she was glad that Finn was there to suffer through it all with her. While the rest of the heroes of the Resistance breezed through everything that their newfound fame had brought them – another group of people who had been prepared for this – the two of them hadn't quite managed to get accustomed to it yet. Some days, Rey doubted that they ever would, no matter how much the novelty of it had turned into something akin to a routine.

Still, they were free to refuse if they wanted to. Their actions had earned them that right. Ben, on the other hand— no one could really tell what the best course of action would be with him. The people who would have had the authority to send him on an actual trial had died in the initial attack of the First Order, but he wasn't innocent either and in the end, it would likely be up to him what to do with himself. Everyone she'd met so far, no matter how unique, had shared the same trait – they were tired of holding on to a war that had, in one shape or another, followed them their entire lives. It was that willingness to just let it end that was Ben's best chance right now; they both knew it.

And yet, Rey couldn't help but ask, "Where do you think we should go next?"

"'We'?" Ben abandoned the clothes in favour of turning his attention to her fully.

"Everyone keeps talking about me tracking down other Force-sensitives, especially children," Rey shrugged. The noise from outside didn't seem so intrusive, suddenly; not when it meant that the proposition could drown out in the sounds of the city if she was quiet enough about it. "I'm not sure I can do it all on my own."

It was as much an attempt at distraction as it was an actual question that had occupied her mind for a while and it had the desired effect. "No one would let me help you even if I wanted to," Ben said with the same derisive tone he'd responded with to her questions about his home.

"You don't want to?"

"That's not what I said."

"I'm the only one who gets to decide what to do." Now that she'd finally voiced the idea, it seemed irresistible. "If it's that or nothing— it's all voluntary, isn't it? We wouldn't be forcing anyone into anything. If someone doesn't trust you, it's their choice, but the truth is, you know much more than I do."

"It's not the kind of knowledge any parent would want me to pass on to their child." He was tempted by the prospect, though; it was written all over his face. "And I would be a terrible teacher."

"At least you know what you're doing. Can't say the same about the majority of the galaxy." Rey wasn't sure why it was so important for him to feel about this the way she did, but it was. A product of everyone's constant repetition about how she was the only one left and the desperation to prove them wrong; that was all it was, she thought. "As far as I know, it's been a while since anyone's had a proper teacher."

"Two generations since the Jedi Order first fell," Ben said. "That's more than a while. If you plan on restoring it, no one would remember any differently. You can do whatever you please."

"Exactly. If there's to be a new Jedi Order—"

"I don't want a new Jedi Order."

The silence that followed that particular piece of information was louder than anything they'd said so far. When he spoke again, Ben's voice was somewhat more careful and somehow, that only made things worse.

"You were talking about training other Force-sensitives. I could help you with that, but I wouldn't try to turn children into Jedi. What I said to you in the Throne room— I meant it. None of that is worth it. Someone could establish a new Order one day, I suppose, if they follow all the steps from the very beginning and start from scratch, but I don't think it's going to be you."

"And why is that?" She'd meant to sound angry at the offhanded presumption, but she couldn't be; not with how little information she actually had on hand.

"Accepting the philosophy of the Jedi meant that all attachments were forbidden. If a child was brought to the Order, it meant they had to leave their home and family and everything they'd known until then. Forever. The younger they were when they were taken, the better." Ben settled more comfortably on his bed; close enough that he had to look down at her when he raised an eyebrow in her direction. "I thought you wouldn't fit the role of a traditional Jedi Master very well, regardless of what you do or don't know. Neither would I. It doesn't matter what'll happen tomorrow; I still wouldn't try it. You can call yourself – and your school – whatever you want if it'll be easier to understand for everyone else, but the Jedi as they were once wouldn't be of any help to anyone now."

"Luke—"

"—thought the exact same thing, didn't he?" Even now, so much later, the name brought out the same dangerous spark it had at the beginning. Rey had had her guard down for just long enough for him to peer at her memories. "That's why he went to Ahch-To and that's why you took the books when you left; he wanted nothing to do with it. It was a wise choice for once."

This, in particular, was a conversation they'd had too many times for Rey to count. He made his decisions and he died for them, Ben always said, it was his choice and no one else's. She thought that he might even believe it, but it was hard to tell – it was a part of his mind that he always managed to hide somehow, even with the Force bond still firmly in place. It never failed to remind her that there wasn't a whole lot that he would do differently if given such a chance and while it was an unpleasant truth, it wasn't one Rey was shying away from. It was what it was. He was who he was and he'd told her enough times that he thought that over the past few years, he'd done the best he could with the circumstances he'd been in (apart from one thing, Father, because nearly everything boiled down to that with Ben eventually). It had been a brutally honest statement and that was just about the only thing that had made Rey stay afterwards – he'd never tried to pretend that he was any different from what he was truly like.

"You were the Master of the Knights of Ren," Rey protested still. For all his cynicism, he was still hopeful; she could feel it in the undercurrent of his mind. Hopeful for a new beginning, someplace where he'd have something to focus on and not have to look back. The past is the past, he kept repeating and just this once, it made sense to want to let go. "You still are. If you could train them, you could do it again."

"It's not exactly the same kind of Master." Ben sighed and slumped against his numerous pillows, the light from outside illuminating his features as he stared through the window. It was enough to tell her that he was on the verge of giving in – he'd never been able to look people in the eye when he conceded that they had a point. "And they were my uncle's students before they were mine. Completing the training of a handful of Dark Jedi isn't the same as training children without following someone – anyone – else's guidelines."

"We're all they have." Rey hadn't moved from her original position, but he had and suddenly it made all the difference – she could feel his presence much more easily now; could tell how seriously he was taking this even if he'd dismissed the idea at first. Without thinking much about it, Rey reached out again, fingers lingering over his wrist in a mimic of the promise he'd asked for when they'd talked about his knights. Ben tensed up, but didn't move; just pulled his hand away until it was their fingers that were intertwined instead. He'd been the one to initiate it, but even to Rey, it felt like nothing but a natural conclusion. "It's our way or no one else's."

"Our way," Ben echoed. He had been going for sarcastic, she knew, but it fell flat. "If we manage to agree on one, that is."

"We will," Rey assured him. He'd told her far too many times for her to keep track that she was too optimistic, but now, it felt more like a fact than a prediction. "We've already agreed that neither of us would be too good at following traditions."

Ben's smile, once he turned to face her, was more genuine than any other she remembered witnessing. "But it's still going to be a Jedi Temple." And it's still going to be just us. He didn't need to say it for Rey to understand. She nodded.

"For appearances's sake, yes, what we're staring will be a Jedi Temple, but you said it yourself." Rey squeezed his hand. "We can call it whatever we want."