Chapter Text
There are days when Ben wakes up from dreams, feeling as if he’s being torn from something important.
Some days he wakes in a sweat with vague recollections of flashing red mingling with anger, fear woven with searing pain, and the threat of a darkness he can’t seem to shake. Other days he wakes soothed by endless blue, a calming balm of shapeless light and the phantom weight of a hand on his cheek followed by fleeting yet immeasurable joy.
He’s had these same dreams all his life and while he’s gotten used to them, clarity has always been maddeningly out of reach.
Ben has tried to chase the tendrils of these dreams before and the most he’s ever been able to take with him to consciousness is the unsinkable urge to find — to find what , he’s never been quite sure.
He lays in bed now, wondering if it’s possible for — heartache? Yes, heartache, to be strong enough to wake a man. He’d be more concerned of the possibility of cardiac arrest if he weren’t at the peak of his health, but part of him has always known that this was something beyond the help of a medical diagnosis.
Ben doesn’t get to ruminate on this for long before he hears a thud against the hull. Accompanied by his boat giving a sudden pitch and it’s enough to get him shooting out of the cabin and up to the deck.
He's been sailing singlehanded since he could legally do so and while he’s never run into any real trouble, there’s always a first time for everything. Out in the open ocean, there’s really very little chance of running into anything in the 15 minutes that he’d gone down for a cat nap, but he looks over the back railing for any indication of what could have caused the sound and doesn’t find anything. Something could have run into him , but whatever it was, it seems that it didn’t stick around.
The boat is back to its usual swaying, though he does note that the waves look a little choppier and the wind has picked up. A quick lap around checking the Soleil for any other signs of damage soothes him enough to return to the helm where he checks the instrument panel and sets the sails to unfurl.
He has no particular destination in mind, except for away and it’s been like that for longer than he can remember.
When he was younger, he usually didn’t get much farther than the docks before one of his mother’s employees was sent to fetch him. The woman was never around, but still somehow managed to make her presence known. He’d see her on the news more than he ever did in person.
The headlines would tout something along the lines of, “Skywalker Marinas Heiress Cum Climate Activist Arrested at Protest” before showing her being escorted into a police car or being handcuffed. His father was no better, off sailing whenever he could, never having been one to stay on land for very long. Ben used to beg to go with him, but his father preferred to sail solo and he soon learned not to bother even asking his dad where he was headed.
Ben is a grown man and now it’s him who runs away. He’s taken to sailing from port to port, gone from home for months on end, and he’s come to understand that the habit is as much a byproduct of his relationship with his parents as it is also his nature. He hasn’t outgrown the feeling that he’s missing something, so he searches.
Only a few minutes of sailing goes by when an alarm sounds on the radio. Ben groans at his luck just as an automated voice announces a weather warning.
“The National Weather Service has issued a severe storm warning for the southern coast for the next 24 hours. Hurricane Snoke has been spotted moving south and is expected to hit within 2 hours. Sustained winds of over 74 mph are possible for the coastal areas of...”
He had known there was a storm, but last he heard, it was going the other direction across the country. Ben tuned out the rest of the announcement knowing that the rest could be summed up to, “you’re fucked if you don’t take shelter.” His nav system tells him that the closest port is just under 2 hours away, so he wastes no time setting his course and going as fast as the Soleil will take him.
〜
For the most part, being a lightkeeper is a quiet job. Rey’s days are spent with her mother, Maz, maintaining the machinery, keeping house and manning the radio. On her days off, she helps out at Chewie’s garage, fixing up old boats or hangs out with Rose and Finn around town.
The evenings offer a different kind of quiet, even in storms as bad as the one they’re experiencing now. Standing at the top and watching the lashing waves has always soothed Rey and she feels calmly defiant within something that withstands even the strongest acts of God.
Rey would like to be as steady as the lighthouse, but she often fears that she’s more like the tumultuous waves below than anything else. She looks out at the roiling ocean now, the light revolving behind her and times her breaths to its oscillations.
In. Light.
Out. Dark.
The mist that lands on her face feels like a distant memory of a gentle caress she’s never been able to place, so she breathes in the cold air to chase it away.
In. Light.
Out. Dark.
It’s centering to be so still while the storm rages around her. Rey likes her sleepy little coastal town, but it’s moments like this that remind her there are greater things beyond the horizon.
Generally speaking, there’s not much excitement to be found in her everyday life, so it comes as a surprise when a distress call disrupts her evening.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is vessel Soleil . Can anyone hear me? Over.”
Rey’s brows shoot up in surprise. What poor soul is stuck out there in this storm?
“ Soleil, this is Green Cliff Lighthouse. I’ve received your distress call. What’s your location? Over.”
It takes a minute for them to reply and Rey’s gaze wanders to the churning ocean as she waits. Finally the voice returns.
“I’m located just off the Tonahch coast, east of the lighthouse at 52.9715° N, 9.4309° W. I’ve lost -” The voice cuts out for a worrying moment, but returns just as abruptly. In the background, Rey can hear the crash of waves and the man sounds breathless in his haste to reply. “I’m alone and I’ve lost engine power. The waves are pushing me to the cliff face and I need emergency assistance. Over.”
“Hang in there. You’re not alone anymore. I’m alerting the patrol now, just stay on this channel. Over.”
Rey switches channels quickly and squints through the darkness trying to spot the boat.
The coordinates they gave aren’t far from the lighthouse which means that they’re dangerously close to the rocks below the cliff. Just a little ways off to the right of the lighthouse, she sees it. Its sails are unfurled, the sailor cleverly using the wind to fight against the waves trying to drag it to wreckage.
“Tonahch Coast Patrol radio, this is Green Cliff Lighthouse. We’ve got an emergency.” Rey holds the radio to her mouth, trying to keep an eye on the struggling boat all the while. “Finn, are you there?”
Finn’s voice crackles in. “I’m here. What’s going on?”
“Someone out there is trying to sail in right now, but they’ve lost engine power and are getting pushed towards the rocks. Can you get Poe out there?”
“Yes,” he says. “Can you see the guy?”
“Yeah, I’ve got an eye on him.”
“How much time does he have before he hits the rocks?” Finn asks. Rey hears the sound of a scramble in the periphery.
“Not enough,” Rey says. “Radio in to channel 16.”
“Alright, I’ll let ‘em know they’re on the way.”
Rey switches back to the channel the Soleil was on and cranks up the volume to listen to the patrol make contact while she runs up the stairs to operate the smaller floodlight. She turns it on and a beam of light pierces through the sky.
The rain is heavy and the Soleil is far enough away for the floodlight to make little difference in visibility, but it’s just enough to light the way to the boat. Rey eyes the shrinking distance between the boat and the rocks with a knot in her stomach and it feels much too long before Rey sees the patrol jetting out followed by what she thinks must be Chewie’s trawler.
They find the Soleil easily, but with the force of the waves, she knows that it’s going to be difficult to get close without crashing into each other. Poe and Chewie approach the bobbing boat and Rey almost vibrates out of her skin with nervousness, helpless to watch it all from above.
She looks on as Poe’s smaller patrol cruiser slowly sidles up to the drifting sailboat, careful to mind how the wind and waves change his trajectory. It takes a few tense minutes of maneuvering before Poe is able to safely latch on to the Soleil . They bob amongst the waves while Chewie keeps a safe distance, waiting to be tethered.
A particularly large wave crashes over them and Rey can’t contain the gasp that comes out of her when they disappear for a terrifying moment. She’s only able to breathe again when they reappear. It’s not long after that that Poe is finally able to unlatch from the Soleil’s side and bring the bowline to Chewie’s trawler. Together, the two functioning vessels power through the waves to pull the Soleil along to safety.
Just down the winding stairs, she hears Poe’s voice over the radio.
“Tonahch Coast Patrol, this is officer Dameron confirming that the Soleil is secured and headed into harbor.”
Rey lets out a relieved breath.
As she watches the boat sail away into the safety of the harbor, she wonders just what kind of person braves this storm to come to her sleepy little town.
Maz relieves Rey of her watch a little while later, uttering a soft “goodnight” and giving her a kiss to the forehead as she descends down the tower. Rey takes her time turning in for the night, still too wired with tension to lie still and when she finally does drop into bed, it takes her far too long to fall asleep.
She’s just drifting off when she hears Maz’s steps pass her room, the sound of a door slammed shut by wind and what her sleep muddled mind thinks might be the muffled sound of a man’s low voice. Tired as she is, sleep pulls her in quickly and she hears no more.
Rey falls into a fitful slumber and dreams of a storm to match the one raging outside. Her dream shows a hand reaching for hers in the darkness, providing a respite from the chaos. The peace that falls over her at the touch is unlike anything she’s ever felt, but it comes with a lancing sense of loss that she doesn’t understand until the hand begins to fade away.
Every part of her wants to beg them not to leave, but her voice won’t come to her and she’s left alone, grasping at air.
When Rey wakes, she finds her pillow damp with tears.
Waking up crying because of a nightmare isn’t a particularly unusual occurrence for her, but it’s been some time since it last happened. When she was much younger, it happened often. Night terrors just come with the territory of being abandoned by one’s parents, but as Rey had gotten older, the wound in her soul from being orphaned had healed over with all the love that she received from her adoptive family.
She grew to learn that she had what she needed from a family in Maz and her friends. The nightmares of her chasing after a boat sailing from the docks eventually dissipated, but the mysterious hand that reached out to her remained to haunt her dreams now and again. She’s familiar with the hurt she felt at the thought of a family who didn’t want her, but this always felt distinctly different.
Rey gets up, determined to shake off the old ache that has settled itself in her chest.
In the aftermath of the storm, everything seems hushed and she readies for the day just as quietly, her mind still stuck in the strange dream. Rey opens her door to find a note from Maz.
We have a guest staying with us in the spare room. Arrived late last night. Talk later.
Tonahch is a small town and off the radar — a tourist destination, it is not . So when errant boats sail in, there aren’t many places to stay.
Green Cliff Lighthouse used to be manned by a bigger team, but as the old ways died out, so did the number of lightkeepers. Maz once told her it used to belong to the famous son and heir of a big fishing company — a friend of a friend, Maz said. Now it was theirs and there was more than enough room for the mother and daughter pair, so it turned into an unofficial B&B for those who wandered into their harbor.
Rey puts the note down on the kitchen table and sets about preparing breakfast for herself. The squawk of the gulls outside the window keeps her company as she cooks. Preoccupied as she is with cooking, she doesn’t turn when she hears someone enter the kitchen.
“Morning Maz,” she says over her shoulder. “You’re up earlier than usual. I haven’t started the coffee yet.”
The voice that replies is definitely not Maz.
“I can put a pot on if you tell me where everything is.”
Rey whirls from the stove, spatula in hand. The man standing at the doorway walks forward and her heart flies to her throat when he steps into the morning light.
“You must be Rey,” he says extending his hand to her. “I’m Ben.”