For genprompt_bingo
Aug. 31st, 2020 06:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofleithianTitle: You Forever Stand Alone
Summary: The story of Ren’s burn marks.
Prompt: Ritual Marks and Body Decorations
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author’s Notes: Another KOTOR quote for the title.
It was in one of Ben’s nightmares that Ren said, “You’re wondering how I got so scarred?”
Ben nodded.
“Don’t worry, kid. I don’t see it as a mark of shame. If anything...” Ren sighed as he spoke, looking more subdued than Ben had ever seen him. “I see it as a testament, actually. I was put through hell and I survived. I was reborn, you could say. Sion, Vader, me...we’ve all been unmade and remade in the image of what we were made to be.”
Ben looked over him, over the discolored skin, so discolored it didn’t look like anything living. “You like this?”
“I’m proud of it. Big difference, kid.” A beat. “You’ll learn one day.”
A beat.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Ren said. “But you were wondering."
A beat.
“My name wasn’t always Ren,” Ren said. “Ren’s more of a concept. A belief.”
“You are the belief?” Ben said, carefully.
“You could say that.”
They walked out in this dreamscape, this reconstruction of Corellia’s streets. Ben had heard of that place, had seen it in his father’s nightmares.
“You could say I was a lot like your dad,” Ren said. “Salvaging things just to get through every week, every minute, every hour...I was a scumrat. Difference is that your dad went to the Imperial Academy before bailing. I went to the Jedi.”
“You...?”
“Ever wondered why my Knights don’t have a lightsaber, but I do? I was a Jedi. It’s the only thing left from my old life.” Ren sounded...well, he didn’t sound faux-jovial. He sounded sad, sad and tired and alone. “Don’t give me that look, kid. Everyone ends up that way in the end. Everyone goes away. No need to get all sympathetic on me.”
The more Ben listened, the more he thought he could pick up traces of a Corellian accent in Ren’s voice. In his speech patterns. He sounded too much like Ben’s father — and that gave Ben a different kind of chill.
"People don’t have to be alone,” Ben said. He thought, impulsively, of Poe — how even he had Zorii. Ben ought to be jealous. Instead, he was glad that Poe didn’t have to be alone.
“You’re alone in the end,” Ren said. "I...” He sighed, clearly steeling himself. “I had a Master. Ekari. She found me on the streets of Corellia, and she took me in. I don’t know why, but she saw potential in that one little scumrat. And...”
“And you loved her.” Ben said. It wasn’t a romantic love by any means, but a love of a child for someone who could have been their mother.
"You’re astute,” Ren said. “When I started seeing flaws in the Jedi Order, I tried to talk her into leaving with me. But she...she believed so much that she was on the right side of history. She believed so much that the Jedi wanted to help people, even when they couldn’t give a damn about Corellia, about anything else. Kid...is it the peasants’ fault if they starve? The homeless’ fault that they’re homeless?”
“No.” For once, Ben couldn’t think of anything other than that.
“Exactly. And Ekari...weeks later, the Jedi sent her after me.” A beat. “See for yourself, kid.”
The dreamscape shifted to a facility, to Ren, unscarred, wearing his mask, wearing black, overlooking the facility. Footsteps, and a black-haired woman entered.
Ben watched as they argued. As Ekari seemed to think that Ren could be saved. “You’re not a monster,” Ekari said. “You made all the wrong choices, but you’re not a monster.”
A duel. During the duel, striking something sensitive by mistake — who’d struck it first? — and a blinding flash of light —
— droids, tending to the grisly sight of Ren, who looked, somehow, worse than Ren in the present. Ben wanted to look away, but somehow, he felt he owed it to Ren. Both Rens.
Ren in the present...his fists clenched, curling up. Ben swore his voice cracked as he said, “I’m good as her killer. I don’t know which one of us struck that thing in the facility, but it blew to hell. I survived...she was practically incinerated. And I guess I wear those scars as a sign of...rebirth. Who I was. Who I am.”
“And to punish yourself,” Ben said. He could feel it, an emotion he never thought he’d associate with Ren: grief, as powerful and horrifying as any genuine rage. “So you’ll never forget your failure. So you have to live with it, and suffer for it. Alone. No matter how many Knights are with you.”
“If you say so.”
Even as Ben woke, his heart racing, he knew it was true.
Summary: The story of Ren’s burn marks.
Prompt: Ritual Marks and Body Decorations
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author’s Notes: Another KOTOR quote for the title.
It was in one of Ben’s nightmares that Ren said, “You’re wondering how I got so scarred?”
Ben nodded.
“Don’t worry, kid. I don’t see it as a mark of shame. If anything...” Ren sighed as he spoke, looking more subdued than Ben had ever seen him. “I see it as a testament, actually. I was put through hell and I survived. I was reborn, you could say. Sion, Vader, me...we’ve all been unmade and remade in the image of what we were made to be.”
Ben looked over him, over the discolored skin, so discolored it didn’t look like anything living. “You like this?”
“I’m proud of it. Big difference, kid.” A beat. “You’ll learn one day.”
A beat.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Ren said. “But you were wondering."
A beat.
“My name wasn’t always Ren,” Ren said. “Ren’s more of a concept. A belief.”
“You are the belief?” Ben said, carefully.
“You could say that.”
They walked out in this dreamscape, this reconstruction of Corellia’s streets. Ben had heard of that place, had seen it in his father’s nightmares.
“You could say I was a lot like your dad,” Ren said. “Salvaging things just to get through every week, every minute, every hour...I was a scumrat. Difference is that your dad went to the Imperial Academy before bailing. I went to the Jedi.”
“You...?”
“Ever wondered why my Knights don’t have a lightsaber, but I do? I was a Jedi. It’s the only thing left from my old life.” Ren sounded...well, he didn’t sound faux-jovial. He sounded sad, sad and tired and alone. “Don’t give me that look, kid. Everyone ends up that way in the end. Everyone goes away. No need to get all sympathetic on me.”
The more Ben listened, the more he thought he could pick up traces of a Corellian accent in Ren’s voice. In his speech patterns. He sounded too much like Ben’s father — and that gave Ben a different kind of chill.
"People don’t have to be alone,” Ben said. He thought, impulsively, of Poe — how even he had Zorii. Ben ought to be jealous. Instead, he was glad that Poe didn’t have to be alone.
“You’re alone in the end,” Ren said. "I...” He sighed, clearly steeling himself. “I had a Master. Ekari. She found me on the streets of Corellia, and she took me in. I don’t know why, but she saw potential in that one little scumrat. And...”
“And you loved her.” Ben said. It wasn’t a romantic love by any means, but a love of a child for someone who could have been their mother.
"You’re astute,” Ren said. “When I started seeing flaws in the Jedi Order, I tried to talk her into leaving with me. But she...she believed so much that she was on the right side of history. She believed so much that the Jedi wanted to help people, even when they couldn’t give a damn about Corellia, about anything else. Kid...is it the peasants’ fault if they starve? The homeless’ fault that they’re homeless?”
“No.” For once, Ben couldn’t think of anything other than that.
“Exactly. And Ekari...weeks later, the Jedi sent her after me.” A beat. “See for yourself, kid.”
The dreamscape shifted to a facility, to Ren, unscarred, wearing his mask, wearing black, overlooking the facility. Footsteps, and a black-haired woman entered.
Ben watched as they argued. As Ekari seemed to think that Ren could be saved. “You’re not a monster,” Ekari said. “You made all the wrong choices, but you’re not a monster.”
A duel. During the duel, striking something sensitive by mistake — who’d struck it first? — and a blinding flash of light —
— droids, tending to the grisly sight of Ren, who looked, somehow, worse than Ren in the present. Ben wanted to look away, but somehow, he felt he owed it to Ren. Both Rens.
Ren in the present...his fists clenched, curling up. Ben swore his voice cracked as he said, “I’m good as her killer. I don’t know which one of us struck that thing in the facility, but it blew to hell. I survived...she was practically incinerated. And I guess I wear those scars as a sign of...rebirth. Who I was. Who I am.”
“And to punish yourself,” Ben said. He could feel it, an emotion he never thought he’d associate with Ren: grief, as powerful and horrifying as any genuine rage. “So you’ll never forget your failure. So you have to live with it, and suffer for it. Alone. No matter how many Knights are with you.”
“If you say so.”
Even as Ben woke, his heart racing, he knew it was true.
