faderift | OPEN ↠ HEART LIKE ICE

OPEN ↠ HEART LIKE ICE

WHO: New Rifters & Inquisition Members
WHAT: A journey south to make new friends and kick some ass
WHEN: Drakonis 15-25
WHERE: Sunless Lands
NOTES: Violence and language assumed. Warn for anyting else. OOC post.

The Sunless Lands are not, in fact, sunless. This time of year there can be as many as eight hours of daylight, some of it blinding where it reflects off of snow and ice that stretches from the southern edge of the Kocari Wilds as far as anyone can see, broken only occasionally by rocky masses of land jutting out of the snow cover or barren tundra peeking out in patches where constant, unforgiving wind has pushed it aside. You'll be traversing this span primarily on foot—there are sleighs, too, pulled by hardy dogs, but they're carrying essential supplies rather than spare people. The only way to get a ride is to successfully feign passing out.

Beyond the dogs, the area isn't devoid of native wildlife: white fennecs hunt rodents underground, and a herd of excessively fluffy wild druffalo is seeking out whatever vegetation it can find. But hunting down a meal or two early and preserving rations for further south would not be a bad idea, because the further south the team travels, the more inhospitable the terrain grows, and the less life can be seen. And sometimes not much of anything can be seen, when clouds roll by and burst with snow thick enough to halt progress entirely for hours.

The nights are cloudy as often as clear, but when they are clear the sky is split by green and purple ribbons of light.

I. THE RESCUE

Two days' journey south, the monotonously icy horizon is broken by something new: smoke rising in interrupted puffs, an intentional signal. Someone is out there. Chances are, it's the rifters, with or without their first group of intended rescuers. But there's no way to be sure. And approaching with caution is wise either way. Rifters have strange powers (and strange personalities), and they've been out here for days now, dealing with demons and Maker knows what else on their own. For all anyone knows, they could be the reason for the rescue team's disappearance. Orders are to approach carefully.

Then, once contact has been made and initial concerns have been allayed, make sure those poor people have something to eat, and try to figure out where their original rescuers disappeared to.

II. THE STORM

After the rifters are recovered, there's still the matter of the red lyrium mine to address. Another two days' journey south will put the group within good range of the mine: not so close as to be seen, but close enough to be able to get there in a couple of hours as needed.

Halfway there, however, in the middle of the day, progress comes to an abrupt half when the darkest clouds yet gather suddenly on the horizon and barrel down on the group, bringing with them a glut of snow that reduces visibility to only a few feet and wind that roars so loudly you have to shout to be heard. Magic can help some with heat, but the storm shows little sign of quickly abating and with hours of deadly cold conditions to deal with, digging in and getting cozy for a few hours might be the most feasible solution for everyone.

III. THE VILLAGE

Shortly before the point everyone is aiming for—one marked by an enormous stone carving of an owl, several times taller than a man, that's inexplicably been left by the ancients in the center of the tundra—something else appears not far to the west. On closer inspection, it turns out to be a circle of low-sitting animal-skin tents pressed down into the snow to protect them from wind, rocky fire pits, and abandoned sleighs. Overall, it's a cross between camp and village indicative of a nomadic group that's staying a while but not forever.

It's empty now, with a coating of snow on most of the structures that indicates it's been at least a few days since anyone was here. Closer inspection reveals personal belongings inside the tents, including toys and clothing belonging to children—and, in many tents, chunks of red lyrium in the center or beneath the skins that form the beds, each piece emanating heat. They probably thought it was safer than fire.

Wherever they went, they don't come back while the Inquisition is there. But the activity does get noticed. A few hours after arrival, enormous white bears apparently moving in a pack come within a hundred yards of the camp and pace at a distance, watching the interlopers with wary interest. Some of them are wearing collars or harnesses decorated in the same style as the tents. For enough food, they may come closer, and they'll turn out to be abnormally tame.

IV. THE BATTLE

The red lyrium mine that Corypheus' followers built when their operations were crippled in Emprise du Lion is nestled in an icy canyon, with massive scaffolding built up the sides of the cliff and too many cages to count, though few of them hold living prisoners anymore. It's a massive operation, but one that's been crippled by its distance from civilization. It's sparsely guarded compared to its size, and other than the cliffs, it has minimal natural protection. The enemy has magic-silencing Templars, enormous behemoths, and a chained white-furred giant, but they are clearly not prepared to be attacked.

Ahead of the onslaught, traps are set and any surviving prisoners are evacuated under cover of darkness. Everyone else sent to fight either creeps down shortly before dawn, rappelling quietly to avoid notice in the dark, or waits at the top for the first surprise strike to provide enough distraction for them to descend more openly. If anyone has been particularly nice to the bears (see above) then it is entirely possible they'll allow themselves to be ridden into battle.

Once their presence is known, their orders are pretty simple. Destroy it all. Leave no one behind and nothing worth returning for.

Fire is a good strategy. Red lyrium doesn't do well in heat.

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"Not even a 'please'?" he quips, leaning forward anyway. brings his hands beneath his legs, wrapping his body closer to himself while she adjusts their new blanket layer.

"How long do storms like this last? I have some rations in my own bag... some things we picked up from the rift too." He had tucked the fish in with his normal rations from home that somehow had come over with him. Neither amounted to much food for two people.

He didn't mind Rey eating more than him. He imagines her starving for so long on Jakku and instinctively he wants to give her whatever he has. She certainly seemed less skinny than she had been, between her journey from Jakku up to now.

Rey just rolls her eyes in response to his quip, working to smooth the blanket behind him and tuck it in around them both, before pulling it over their heads. Once they're enveloped in the darkness she feels a little bit calmer, finally tugging the scarf down from her face. If they had anything to build a fire with she'd have done that too, but unfortunately this cave was clearly man-made, likely used as a quick shelter rather than somewhere for a long stay.

"I'm not really sure. A few hours to a few days. I have food in my bag, too. We should be okay." She of course traveled with food, even when they had people carrying things to feed the bulk of the Inquisition with. She's not the kind of person to forget to pack extra rations, not after she grew up hungry. One of the reasons she's no longer as thin as she once was is thanks in large part to the regular meals and sometimes extra portions on the side from the Inquisition kitchen staff. Several of them were quite fond of her, because she always seemed so grateful for what they did, even if it was nothing more than potatoes and whatever meat was cheapest that day.

Kylo lets out a shaky breath, running his gloved hands together quickly to generate heat. The cover from the cold was helpful. Count on Rey to be resourceful in a pinch after years scavenging the deserts of Jakku.

"Maybe we won't need it. We'll get out of here before it comes to that." Despite the darkness enveloping them in their blanket coverings, Kylo can still somewhat see the shape of her beside him. He could picture her in his mind with her scarf drawn down around her neck from her face, her small form curled away from the cold.

"Come here. I won't... do anything. It's just better if we're close." Cautiously, he maneuvers his arm around her again, hesitating until she gave permission. In the dark it was harder to see but he was careful to search out her shoulder on the opposite side from him. The longer they shared warmth the easier it would be when they were found. He didn't know what he was doing, only that he wanted to keep the both of them as warm as possible.

Rey's brow wrinkles as she tries to parse out what exactly he means by that, before she shakes her head a little, shifting herself so she's closer to him.

"I'm not worried you're going to do anything," she replies, a little obstinately, even if she really doesn't know what he means. She wouldn't have allowed him close enough to share warmth in the first place if she were truly afraid he was a danger to her. She settles somewhat uneasily against him, resting her hands on Padawan's neck before turning her left hand over, considering for a moment before she pulls off her glove, exposing her palm and the glowing green shard embedded in it. The light is enough to see by, even if it bathes them in an ethereal greenish color.

"No? I don't think I've earned the right to hear you say that." His voice comes out quiet, rough with some emotion he kept back as far as possible. Emotions that held sentiment were weakness. Caring what she thought of him was a weakness. Why he cares, when he knows that her letting him live was her own shortcoming, he can't explain properly. He knows, deep down, that his rejecting her request to save the fleet had been a betrayal in her eyes.

He cared so little for the Resistance and their cause, having long ago lost his mother to it. He didn't care if those people lived or died, even as he was relieved that his mother could find it in her to still want him for a son. His mother's continued faith continued to perplex him. He wanted to believe that that was why Rey let him live, that she still had that faith too. Yet, he found himself unable to understand their reasons.

He watches Rey take her glove off, showing the green glow of the shard within her palm. He takes his own glove off, the shard glowing in his own hand. The two lit up their enclosed space enough that he could see Rey and Padawan better, though the light left a sick feeling in his stomach. He'd felt that way when he fell from the sky, the glow burning from behind his eyelids. It reminded him of Luke's lightsaber, he realized. He had no reason to fear it anymore and yet he still recalled the tension that built up inside him, exploding outwards within the Force as he preyed for it to save him.

"Do you get used to them after a while?" He still felt it like a splinter, an anomaly embedded into his skin.

So close even through the walls she's built up between them she can feel the ghost of his emotions. Or maybe she's letting the wall crumble, she doesn't know.

"If you killed me right now, you'd lose out on the heat I'm generating, and you'd die. Plus, Padawan would rip your throat out, so you'd die faster." Rey points out, pragmatically. That isn't why she'd said what she had, but it's a fairly good point, and one she clings to, rather than the more nebulous answer that she doesn't entirely think they're capable of hurting each other. Physically, at least.

She's careful to keep her bare hand clear of his when he takes his glove off, though her eyes are drawn to it as she examines his shard. They each look a little different, strange jagged shapes of raw magic, or whatever they are.

"Sort of. I don't notice it most of the time, but I feel like it hurts more after I've used it to close a rift. That could just be my imagination." She's more aware of it when she's actively using it, so thus the pain is magnified.

He can feel it too, something stirring from behind the walls she was keeping up. He hadn't tried pushing his luck with their connection, but just the hint of something was enough of a comfort to him.

"Fair enough. I was speaking on my past deeds more than the present." He had no intention of trying to kill her today, or at all in the near future unless she gave him cause to. He still isn't sure where that leaves them, but she hasn't tried to kill him either so it's a start.

"And these tie us to the rifts that brought us here. Are we supposed to just continue closing them for the Inquisition?" What good would that do them? It was a potentially dangerous power, possibly lethal if it caused them pain. He wants to reach out and touch hers, curiosity drawing his gaze to its shimmer and glow. He stops himself from doing so only because he wonders if that might tear down the walls Rey was keeping up around him. Still, the pull is there as it had ever been. He was drawn to her, that much would always be true.

Rey doesn't meet his eyes when he mentions his past deeds. There's a lot there, and it's honestly still things she's sorting through. It would have been easier, a week ago, she'd just hate him for killing Han.

"We're the only two people from our universe here, maybe we don't need to weigh past deeds right now," she doesn't know if she means that. She is still upset with him, when she thinks about the Supremacy and everything that happened her stomach knots. But she's willing to try, maybe.

His question pulls her attention away and she looks down at her own shard, closing her hand briefly before opening it again.

"The rifts are slowly tearing this world apart. I don't know what would happen if the Veil were to be completely torn asunder, but considering our universe is connected to theirs by it, and it's pulling us here? I can't imagine it would be a good outcome." Dozens of realities crashing together, maybe.

That surprises him. He half expected to still be called a monster after he'd let her down so spectacularly. On one hand her willingness to put things aside feels foolish to him, but on the other he doesn't care. They needed each other right now. He wasn't sure how to articulate that so he shelves it for now, choosing to keep talking about the rifts instead.

"It could ripple outwards to the others." He confirms what she's saying, feeling a sense of dread come with it. If their world was gone he would have nothing. He might want to burn it all to ashes and rebuild but it certainly wouldn't happen this way.

Their shared warmth and the exhaustion of the last several days was actually catching up to him a bit and he has to blink back a moment of sudden exhaustion. There was no way he was falling asleep next to her. She had spared his life once, he didn't trust even her to not be tempted. She might not be Hux but she was still someone he couldn't relax his guard around.

"I guess it couldn't be all bad. Food, clothes, money... you've made a life here." He wasn't sure how likely that was for him, but if it meant survival he would try. They could find a way to removed the shards with the Inquisition's help, even if he didn't trust them.

Rey isn't an expert on the rifts, and only recently had taken more of an interest in trying to help figure it out. Still, she's had her theories and concerns from the beginning, the same as many others. It's a hard thing to think about, that she may never see the Falcon again, may never again feel that gentle lurch in her stomach as a ship enters hyperspace... but it would be worse if all of that was gone.

Shifting her legs a little she presses slightly closer to Kylo, as much because her legs are falling asleep underneath Padawan and she needs to move them, as she's seeking his heat. She smiles a little at his observation of the life she's made, nodding her head.

"I've tried. I did it on Jakku, and this is better. People don't hold out one hand while hiding a knife in the other. At least most people don't." There were still those types here, but there were those types everywhere. Nowhere in the multiverse is safe from people who would use kindness for their own gain.

"I'm sure it depends on the person. Not everyone is always so pure of intention." In his experiences at least. He'd spent the better part of the last few years rising up in the ranks among those who would sooner see him dead. He knew not everyone could be completely without motive or fault.

Unconsciously his pulse picks up just a bit when she moves closer to him. It was one thing if he was forcing someone to be physically close. He dictated the rules. She was making her own now and it left him slightly nervous. He knew she was doing it just to keep warm but he couldn't help how he felt. No one in their right mind ever touched him willingly, until Rey had extended her hand to him.

His hand settles for her wrist, his gloved fingers curling around it and his thumb resting at her pulse. He wouldn't do something so dreadfully sentimental as put his fingers between hers but this was his way of reminding her of that first touch. He might not be who she thought but he still felt drawn into her orbit.

"You should rest. We can take turns keeping an eye out for the storm to clear, or someone finding us." It was logical, though he was probably more exhausted than she was. Still, he stubbornly refused to close his eyes in her presence.

She tenses as his hand rests on her wrist, though likely not for the reason he'd expect. Her mind goes back to that night that is still so vivid in her mind, a night she's thought about almost every night since waking up with the memory of it. Everything had seemed so clear then, that Ben was the one person who could understand her. It's impossibly muddled now, and she doesn't know what to do in this situation, so she freezes up. The only thing betraying her is her heart, thundering in her chest, quickening her pulse. She's thankful for his gloves, if he weren't wearing them all her thoughts would be laid bare before him.

His telling her to rest is met with resistance, like so many things between him and her. She glances over at him, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip.

"I'm not tired," she says, even though the warming air between them makes the idea of sleep tempting.

Edited 2018-03-23 21:51 (UTC)

"Then what? Do we just sit here and wait?" In complete silence. He was fine with it, but the tension rolling off the both of them made it obvious they both had things on their minds. Whomever chose to speak about it first was up in the air. He wanted to know what was going through her head. Having been shut out by her was making it hard to do just that. He felt as if she owed him that much after he'd saved her life from Snoke's torture. It had cost him enough just doing that in itself, but it had created a unique opportunity for him to be free of his own torment.

"Fine." His lip spress together, frustration keeping his silence ice cold. If this was how she wanted it to be, far be it for him to stop her.

"Resting wouldn't change that," she replies a little shortly, pulling her hand away from his. She's uncomfortable with what seems like an oddly intimate gesture when he's being vaguely hostile towards her. Her head turns away from his from a moment, but there's really not much for her to look at, the side of a blanket. This was easier when they were separated by an entire galaxy.

"Did you come through the rift with your lightsaber?" She knows what she wants to discuss, but somehow she just can't get the right words out. Instead she asks him about his weapon, curious if he's armed. She turns her head back towards him, but doesn't look directly at him, watching him instead out of the corner of her eye.

He lets her pull her hand away, tucking his against his side when she does. For him, it feels as if they go two steps forward and three back. He knows there's no point in justifying himself. Instead he stays silent for a long moment, trying to just focus on the heavy warmth of their blankets. When he finally answers, it's not without him pullling his weapon from his belt to rest in his lap.

"I did. Why?" Does she know that it's broken? He hasn't thought to ask her if any of her weapons were broken but there had been no time to ask before they got here. They had been avoiding one another.

She looks down at the weapon in his lap, her eyes then lifting to his face again. It's still hard for her to wrap her mind around the fact that he's here, this is Thedas, and they're both trapped together. It's a lot of new information being dumped on her all at once, and as a result, she is probably being more hostile than he deserves. Not that he doesn't deserve any hostility, but maybe a little less.

"I'm guessing it doesn't work?" She'd be surprised if it did, both hers and Obi-Wan's had been nonfunctional after passing through the rifts, but his is heavily modified. Maybe something on his is different from theirs and he is more dangerous than he would be if it were non-operational.

He glances towards her, indecision stopping him from answering her immediately. He knows that admitting his weak point would be opening himself up to her exposing it, as anyone with half a brain might do. On the other hand, he didn't lie to Rey. Lies didn't exactly endear a person to your cause and he wasn't in the habit of lying to her. He had yet to do so thus far and had no intention of starting.

"It didn't when I first got here. I haven't had a chance to check it over." Telling the truth, while also instilling the fact that all he'd need was time to get it working again. In the few days he's been here he's had no tools to work on fixing his weapon but that could change when they get to wherever it is this party had intended to take their new comrades.

Rey nods her head, a little surprised that he's being truthful with her. Granted, he has no real reason to lie, other than the fact that he had offered her an impossible choice and she'd fled, and is now blocking their connection as best as she can.

Okay so he's got plenty of reason to lie, and yet he doesn't. Her eyes drift down to his weapon again, and her fingers twitch, wanting to take it and open it up, help him find what's broken and set it right. But she knows he's dangerous with it, and she just doesn't know how he's going to behave in this world. So far he seemed much the same as he'd been in their own world. Conflicted, light and dark raging inside him.

"You'll be able to fix it. I fixed mine." She hesitates, before reaching to unhook her lightsaber, formerly Luke Skywalker's, from her belt, holding it in her lap. Obi-Wan's stays where it is, for now. She doesn't need to let him know she has two, at least not right this second.

It's on the tip of his tongue to correct her, to say that her light saber is his. It belonged to his grandfather and then his uncle. It should belong to him. She might even be able to tell he wants to say as much, with how his expression shifts and he presses his lips together as if he can stop the words from coming out.

That saber had saved both their lives now. He could still remember feeling it's weight in his hands when Rey threw it towards him, the raw power of the crystal igniting the blade to burn a hole into his enemy's head. That same raw power had exploded outwards when their combined efforts to gain ownership of the weapon caused it to split and the subsequent blast had knocked them backwards.

"So it did break. How long did it take you to fix it?" He remembered as much, questioning if it had when he had seen Luke wielding it. It was only after Luke disappeared that he realized it had been an illusion created by the Jedi Master to taunt him and give the rebels time to escape. Hux had been right. He'd gotten distracted. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

His own blade would take a bit of work, he imagines. He had no idea what damage had been caused to the crystal and one wrong move would break it and probably cause a lot of damage. The crystal itself was cracked, unstable, just as its owner was. He'd need caution in restoring it.

Rey realizes he misunderstands her when she says she'd fixed her lightsaber and she shakes her head.

"It... it did break on the Supremacy, but that wasn't what I had to fix. It was in-tact when I came here." Which is something strange, and not exactly something she's been thinking too hard about. She's just grateful that it had been in a serviceable state when she'd woken up after all her new memories surging into her.

"The damage is mostly superficial, it only took me a few weeks to fix it, once I knew what I was doing. I had help." She'd mentioned that there'd been someone else before, when she'd explained Padawan's name, but hadn't gone into more detail. Maybe now was a good time for that. "Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was here. He was Padawan's original partner."

"How? It was - I thought it split in half... but the Rift gave it to you intact." He knows that's not a question she could answer so easily. No one seemed to understand anything about these rifts save for the things it spat out into Thedas - people and, apparently, items from home. At the mention of Obi-Wan Kenobi, his brows shoot up.

"But he'd be long dead." Another mystery. And yet here they were, both very much alive. She'd had no memories of the things he did save for dreams. His presence confirmed her dreams to be real. "You... you actually met him."

His brows knit, conflict stirring up inside of him as he felt a mixture of pride and awe, tangled with distaste for the old ways of the Jedi. Obi-wan was his namesake, something he keeps to himself for now. If the Jedi Master had told her of his old nickname while he'd been in hiding, she would make the connection on her own. He no longer went by Ben any more than Obi-Wan did. Still, the connection stings in much the same way holding his father's dice had. Seeing those dice in the abandoned mine that belonged to the Resistance had been a stab to the heart.

Once upon a time Ben Solo had told anyone who would listen that he would be a great pilot like his father. He had dreams of exploring the galaxy in every far off corner, beaming with pride as he held onto his father's dice like a talisman. In it's own way, his name was like a talisman too. It had been a symbol for the hopes that his mother had in men like Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Edited (whoops a few typos here and there) 2018-03-26 05:50 (UTC)

She can feel that conflict, pressing on her walls, spreading around her like a shroud. His emotions always seemed so open to her, even now. The details are lost on her right now, but something about Obi-Wan was significant to him. Maybe it's simply that he had been Vader's master, before he'd been Vader. Maybe it's something else. Without letting her walls down, she can't really say.

"He was young. This place... it seems to pull people from different times. Maybe he would have remembered the things with Luke in time, but he didn't know his name when I knew him. He came from the middle of the Clone Wars. I trained with him." She speaks of him fondly, a soft smile touching her lips as she remembers her master with fondness. He had been exactly the kind of teacher she'd needed, and even with all her new memories, his are still the lessons she holds dear.

"I don't know what happened, but one day he just... wasn't here anymore. I couldn't feel him in the Force, but I know he wasn't dead. Not here, anyway."

And just like that he clamps shut the lid on his emotions. He was interested in meeting the old relic, if only to meet someone who had known his grandfather and might even give him insight far better than his uncle or his parents ever could. The passing interest died out like a flame only to be piqued again when she mentions that she trained with him.

"And he was a better teacher for you than Luke, I'm assuming. I can feel it in the Force. You've gotten stronger." It was different than before. Where he was only mildly aware her growing strength was siphoned from his own through their bond, this was a strength in the Force all her own. It was a strength he would have wanted to nurture himself, when he offered to teach her. He wouldn't have shunned her power as Luke might have.

"Good. None of us truly belongs here except those who actually live here. We're like a disruption. I'm surprised no one's come out and blamed us for these rifts." At least they haven't blamed him directly. For all he knows that thought has been passed around and he knows it would be something Rey would vehemently fight against.

"You were a better teacher than Luke," Rey exhales, saying it before she really realizes what she's saying. She's had several days to mull over things that had happened, and while her anger at Luke for what he had done to Ben had cooled somewhat, she is still frustrated with him. Frustrated that the legend that had refused to give up on Darth Vader had somehow been unable to do the same for a child he had helped raise. She tamps that down before she's swept away in those emotions, shaking her head and tucking her lightsaber back down to her side.

"They have blamed us in the past. You'll see once we get to Kirkwall, not everyone trusts us. There are several rifters with places of power within the Inquisition, people don't... love that." She grasps for the subject change, hoping he wasn't able to pick up on her thoughts drifting through the cracks in her wall, her frustrations that she hadn't had a chance to share with him.

He can't hide his surprise and immediate satisfaction at hearing her say he was a better teacher than Luke. Of course he was. Luke, while he had taught him some things, had always been so steeped in the age old Jedi Order that he hadn't seen the things that were right in front of him that his own nephew had needed. Hearing Rey praise him, even in the smallest way, left him with a small bit of hope to latch onto. He would eventually start getting greedy just to have more thoughts like this come from her.

"And that makes you angry." He doesn't need their connection in the force to be able to tell that much but he can still feel echoes of it humming in the back of his mind as thoughts that weren't his own. He tries pressing back, curiosity getting the better of him. If she was willing to open herself up to him again then perhaps they could let what happened on the Supremacy go. The unfortunate part of this thinking is that his own thoughts would eventually betray him as hers were doing her.

"You want to prove to them that you're just as worthy as anyone else." He knows that she does. It's who Rey is. She wants to solidify a place for herself, no matter what. It would reaffirm the belief that she wasn't completely alone and had a place she belonged. She had searched for that place in Han Solo and Luke Skywalker. He felt for her. He was so desperate to carve his own path too, in his own way.

Edited (some weird typos my bad) 2018-03-27 03:13 (UTC)

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