ladyofleithian | For allbingo

Title: Savior, Conqueror, Hero, Villain

Summary: Rey makes a different choice on Exegol.

Prompt: Evil Overlord

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author’s Notes: This is hella dark for me to post on Christmas Eve, but my muse always had a sense of inappropriate timing. Also, obvious TROS spoilers are semi-obvious.

Also, title is a quote from Darth Malak in KOTOR. I can imagine Dark Rey being more Revan-ish and not so much a Generation Xerox of her grandfather. I didn’t think I’d like writing Dark Rey considering how most writers use it as an excuse for having her arc revolve around Kylo, but writing it so it was more palatable was...interesting.

There are so many factors regarding what happens when Rey becomes Empress, but part of it is, really, the horror of killing a family member. Palpatine was a monster, but he was also still blood. When people think of the word “grandfather”, they think of a cuddly figure with wisdom to dispense. When Rey digs down, there’s — surprisingly — so much anger in her, so much grief, so much of a feeling of being cheated.

Anger is a friend of hers. It was there, beneath the surface, as Plutt mistreated her. As Kylo — Ben — hurt Finn. (She remembers the first time that she strayed close to the Dark Side, and she’d known that, had she not stopped herself, she would have killed Kylo to make sure Finn was safe or avenged) As she learned that Luke had good as created Kylo Ren, and lied about it. And the anger goes from a slow burning heat to an almost boundless rage that’s almost liberating, exhilarating.

Rey sits upon the throne of the Sith, looks out at the hooded figures of the Sith of Exegol. Rey Palpatine, twenty years old, the true heir to the Empire. They’re chanting. The Emperor is dead, long live the Empress.

Yes, Rey thinks. Long live the Empress indeed.

***

She wears a mask. It strikes her how much she’s become like Kylo in that moment. Still, unlike Kylo, who was most likely trying to imitate Vader without understanding Vader’s greatness, she has a reason to wear the mask. She’s too young to be Empress. She knows that. Only twenty, and her face shows it. Designing her mask — a task she undertakes even as the forces of Exegol (having forced the Resistance to retreat) — she can’t help but think of another Sith who started out as an idealist. Darth Revan. (Palpatine apparently admired the manipulations of Revan, how he managed to make everything fit in its right place, taking after his master who later became the Sith Lady Traya) Rey supposes that it’s appropriate. After all, she’s not doing what she does because she’s evil. She does what she does because she’s inconsolable, because she hates that the galaxy simply isn’t fair. She remembers scavengers on Jakku, foraging for scraps — how hungry and ragged they looked. She remembers people like Finn, kidnapped from their homes, or even on a more subtle level like Ben, manipulated to the point that they never stood a chance.

The galaxy is unfair. Her grandfather exploited it to make it even more unfair, as did Snoke. She won’t be that way. She won’t be like him. She can’t be like him. Her grandfather was evil. She is not.

Rey looks down at her finished mask. She’s spent so much time scouting for parts. She never thought she would actually create something.

Sith names. According to legend, the Sith are given the names that choose them. Vader because he was a father, Sidious because of his talent for manipulation. Rey doesn’t know what name will mean her. She supposes she’ll find out, soon enough.

***

The Core Worlds fall to her. Even as the woman in the strange mask storms Coruscant, the Knights of Ren in tow (Ben’s left. She can sense that he’s at least sorry that she is who she is now. He doesn’t have to be sorry. She’s had more clarity than she has had in some time), Rey can’t say that she’s used to killing. At least, people on the “right” side. Eventually, Coruscant surrenders to her. It’s clear that she can’t be stopped.

Rey didn’t know why she could fly ships so easily, why she was so strong in the Force, why she beat Kylo the first time around in a duel. All of it was new, and she had been afraid. No longer.

She ascends the podium, her mask discarded for a moment, replaced by a black hood. She thinks momentarily of her grandfather, his face horrifically scarred and almost melted thanks to Mace Windu’s attack. Any similarities to Palpatine are coincidental, she thinks. It will work this time. The Jedi didn’t work. In a way, Kylo was right — the old ways had to die. The old system had failed.

“People of the galaxy,” she said. “The war is over. Your long nightmare is over. It’s time to let the old ways die. A...friend told me as much, to let the past die. Kill it if you have to. I didn’t understand it then. I do now. The galaxy’s been burdened by the systems sworn to protect us. It did nothing to help the scavengers on Jakku, foraging for scraps, the children taken from their parents to become stormtroopers.” She can feel her audience’s stares on her, their shock. They were probably expecting someone monstrous, like Palpatine or Snoke. They obviously didn’t expect a young woman. Didn’t expect Rey, former hero of the Resistance. But they’re listening. They’re just as angry as she had been. They’re looking for a leader, a teacher. Rey wants to be that, if possible.

“I am Palpatine’s granddaughter, but I am not my grandfather,” Rey continues. “I am more than his mistakes. His cruelties. He was a psychopath, as was Snoke after him. Your leadership has failed you time and time again, whether it’s giving you monsters or giving you fools that cared nothing for you. This ends now. I, Empress of the galaxy, true heir to the Sith, am asking you to remake the Sith. The galaxy. To take the cracks and heal them. Are we not meant for more? Will we repeat the mistakes of the past, or will we move forward into a future free from injustice?”

Rey pauses. She doesn’t know how well she delivered that speech. Fighting she knows how to do. The Force too. But speeches...she’s not an orator. She can feel some of the Sith inside her — odd, hearing their voices, knowing she isn’t alone — recoiling, appalled. She doesn’t have much. Rey knows that. She has her anger, her desire to right things. Her clarity.

Then, a resounding “Justice!” echoes through the Senate. Rey smiles. “Yes,” she says. “Justice. And it is not blind. We are its eyes. The past will die, and in its place is something greater: peace and stability.”

Even as the crowd cheers, Rey, momentarily, wonders what Finn would think if he saw her. What Ben, and others, would think. They won’t forgive her. They’ll hate her, for the choices she makes. But they will understand. They must. Palpatine, Snoke, Ben...they all failed. They were selfish.

She won’t be.

***

Rey doesn’t use the name “Rey” anymore.

She can’t. “Rey” is the name of a little girl hiding from her grandfather, a young woman who thought she was a nobody. It feels wrong to use that name, even though her parents called her that because she was like a ray of sunshine in their tortured lives. She is more than Rey. More than the last Jedi. She is the galaxy’s savior, even if to others she seems monstrous.

It’s when she’s constructing her lightsaber, a tribute to the weapon she saw in her vision in the ruins of the second Death Star, that she knows. A name that means her.

“Rivanna.” she says aloud. This is who she was born to be. The balance. The savior. “I am Darth Rivanna.”

And it’s such a quiet thing, choosing her new identity, that she almost doesn’t notice.