gladdecease: (☆ one is change; some griefs have both)
gladdecease ([personal profile] gladdecease) wrote 2016-11-05 05:53 am (UTC)

i know nothing about sith so all of kylo's shit is vague af

Kylo Ren sucked in a breath, eyes flying open.

“You saw something?” [master??] Snoke said, surprised. Kylo supposed that reaction was deserved; he’d never been very good at grasping this aspect of the Force. His lightsaber talents were sufficient, his mental probes had never failed - until… recently - and his manipulation of the physical world was so skilled that he could stop pure energy in its tracks, but visions? He lacked the native connection to the Force, and opening himself to it was… difficult. And endlessly frustrating.

‘To control the Force, one must first control one’s mind.’

It was a lesson Kylo had been taught twice. Once by his uncle, who encouraged development of this control through awareness of one’s self, through pure meditation - clear your mind, Ben. As if it was as simple as that! He’d been shown another way - focus on a single thought, let it consume you - by a much better master. One who controlled not only his own mind, but countless others. And if that did not tell you who had greater control of the Force, what did?

But what did it say about Kylo, that even under the tutelage of a far more powerful Force-user, no matter how hard he tried, he still saw nothing?

Now was no exception. There had been no visions of the future, no guidance from the Force. Just a cry of confusion, terror, and a feeling of sympathy, calming the cry. The sympathy Kylo half-recognized, but that cry… he knew that [tk??] Force signature. He’d crossed blades with it not even a month ago.

“I saw nothing,” he breathed, “but I felt… her.”

Snoke was unimpressed. “The backwater scavenger?”

“My uncle was a backwater farmer,” Kylo bit out, heedless of any reprimand that might come. He had heard more than enough about his hopelessness, his pitiful skills, that a ‘mere scavenger’ could beat him in a duel. There was nothing mere about her, of that Kylo was certain.

“Trained by the last two remaining Jedi Knights in the galaxy,” Snoke reminded him. As if he could forget the stories, the secondhand lectures on the ways of the Force.

“For a total of [tk #?] fifty hours before they both died!” Why would no one listen? Kylo itched for his lightsaber, longed to bring chaos to this chamber, to better reflect his inner self. “And she - ” Kylo stopped, breathing in slowly as the realization hit him. That half-recognized sympathy. Of course. Horrified, he whispered, “She’s being trained by him.”

“Yes.”

Rage welled up in Kylo. “You knew?”

“I suspected.” Snoke waved a hand dismissively. “It is no matter. Her… natural talent,” a direct quote from Kylo, being unkindly repeated, “will make no difference. He is a skilled Jedi - not a skilled teacher. She will learn less than nothing from him. And you… have so much more to learn from me.”

He had more to learn. His training was incomplete. She - Rey - and Uncle Luke were… inconsequential. Kylo gritted his teeth and tried to believe it.

“Believe me,” Snoke whispered, and for a moment, Kylo did.

But only for a moment.

After that moment had passed… he began to plan.

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