Ben sat in the crew quarters of the Millennium Falcon. Before him stood the chequered table on which his Uncle Chewie played Dejarik with him. He was angry; everything he'd been grateful for, his comfortable home, his loving family were being taken from him. His parents were sending him to his Uncle to be amongst his first students at the Jedi school on Ahch-To he was creating.
His parents, his family were afraid of him, afraid of what he could do, and for some reason, he couldn't fathom, they felt unable to deal with his Force abilities, and so they were flying to the Unknown Regions and leaving him there like some unwanted, untrained pet who'd become too unruly for its masters. He didn't mean to lash out but couldn't help it. So often, he felt angry and frustrated, and he had noticed it getting worse, and when it did, a feeling in him heightened, a feeling he knew was the Force, and he could do things he couldn't normally do. It wasn't the Force as his mother understood it; it felt wild and raging, and when these occasions happened, he could see the fear in his parent's eyes. Try as they might to shield these emotions from him; he could see it, and he could feel it. That look, those feelings they felt hurt him but sending him to live with his Uncle, who to Ben seemed like a religious, pious monk always speaking in riddles and giving what Ben perceived to be patronising looks, was far worse.
Ben felt the change in pressure as the Falcon jumped out of hyperspeed; they were here. He gritted his teeth, and beneath the table, his hands clenched into fists as he wallowed in self-pity and childish anger. He didn't care that his parents thought they were doing what was best for him; they hadn't listened to what he wanted. It wasn't fair, and they didn't care. Ben could feel that seething raw emotion within him, and it fed that new power within him that he couldn't explain. He screwed up his face allowing his anger to overflow; he was furious at his parents. He yelled out angrily, and the built-up tension unleashed itself. Crates and items in the quarters not strapped down securely flew, ricocheting with the Falcon's interior's curved walls and the seat upon which he sat cracked and split right down the centre. His anger immediately subsided as he stared aghast at the damage he'd done.
"Chewie, land us safely," he heard his father's voice from the cockpit, and presently his parents walked into the quarters to survey the damage he'd done.
Ben looked at them, mortified and despairing, "I didn't mean," he started before stopping. Again, those fretful, worried glances, those fearful expressions and anxious thoughts came off them in waves. Shame smothered him like a shroud, and he hung his head guiltily. They were right to fear him. He wasn't able to control these emotions and the power that came with them; he deserved to be sent away. Tears welled in his eyes, and he angrily swiped them away with his fist.
He felt his mother take a seat at his side, her hands lifting his face to hers, stroking his hair from his eyes in a soothing gesture.
"Ben, I wish I had the skills to help you, but I don't. I know you think this is some sort of punishment, but it's not. We're worried about you, and only Luke can help you. He'll protect you."
"I don't want to go there, I don't want to leave," Ben complained through red, bleary eyes.
"I know, and if we had any other option, we would take it, but we don't. The Force is strong in our family, and Luke is the Last Jedi. Everything will be better soon, I promise."
Ben wanted to believe her, that things would be better, but he didn't have as much faith in his Uncle as she did. He did believe she felt inadequate and lost to help him; she didn't see that her love, regardless of his uncontrollable outbursts, meant everything to him, and he wrapped his arms around his mother, unsure when he'd feel her loving embrace again.
-X-
Luke Skywalker had begun to set up his school after the need for war following the Empire's fall had ended. He'd set up home on this sacred island, a mecca for the Force and the site of the original Jedi temple. There were the island natives, Lanais, caretakers of the island with whom he was attempting to find balance and learn their ways and their language. A simple life of daily chores and contemplation. He would begin to find Force-sensitive children across the Galaxy to come and train at this new training academy. Long ago, he'd found another, but fearful of Thrawn, he'd given his charge to a gatherer friend to care for. Soon, he would call them to return.
Ben would be his first official student. Luke knew, even without having found other students yet, that none would show the potential his nephew had. It had been inevitable that Leia's son would be powerful in the Force despite Han's statements to the contrary that Ben was merely a gifted pilot. His reflexes were more due to foresight than skill, though skilled he was. Han had been prodigiously proud of his son's talent with a blaster and bow caster, his accuracy flawless. Again, his ability to predict and see movements before they happened gave him an advantage over those without the Force. Raw strength, raw power, but currently untamed. Leia had regularly consulted with him regarding multiple concerns, Ben's temper and the consequences of his outbursts being one. His solitary nature around those outside his family and his secrets. Leia had mentioned she had found Ben talking with an unseen partner and often heard him speaking to himself alone in his room. Both Luke and Leia, as the only powerful and trained Force wielders, had spoken at length about the presence they could feel lurking in the Force somewhere in the Galaxy, and Leia had shared her fears while pregnant with Luke regarding her unborn son. It was clear to them both that Dark forces hunted Ben, and now she was coming here with her husband to hand their only son into Luke's care.
The weight of their need was great: protect and train their child. Training stranger's children was one thing, but to train his own nephew, within whose veins that mighty Skywalker blood flowed, was a task Luke was not relishing but one he felt duty-bound to take. He would teach him as Ben Kenobi and Yoda had taught him. He would pass on all he knew and save his nephew from falling. This he pledged to himself and his beloved sister and friend. He could not fail.
Luke watched the Falcon land upon a low cliff edge of Ahch-To, a sense of nostalgia filling him at the sight of the freighter; so many adventures within her boughs, so many fond memories.
"Leia, Han, Chewie," he hollered happily as his family descended the boarding ramp to greet him.
An enthusiastic embrace with arms slapping backs energetically and wide smiles full of teeth ensued before Luke pulled himself away to greet the sullen, red-eyed boy who followed. Luke crouched to greet his nephew. Ben was tall for his age, but Luke wanted them to be equals at this moment.
"Ben, how you've grown."
His nephew didn't respond, not even with a familial smile; he merely glowered at him. Luke stood with a smile. This was the first lesson, and it was a hard one, but Luke believed in attachments, love and friendship. His school would be different from his schooling. He had grown beyond Yoda's teachings; his students would grow beyond him. The Jedi of the past had failed to see the Emperor's rise and the powerful Sith behind him, Darth Plagueis. They had failed his father. Their ways had worked for generations, but no more. The Sith had changed, and so must the Jedi and its teachings. Whatever dark presence was in the Unknown Regions, it was unlikely to be like the Sith he'd already vanquished, and so his school would have to prepare for that eventuality.
"Come," he said, raising an arm, and the small group followed him to where the huts were in a neat little village, Ben trudging unwillingly behind them.
At the little gathering of stone huts, Ben was given his choice of which would become his. He chose the one nearest the cliff edge with a little window overlooking the sea; his father and Uncle set to bringing his belongings inside to make it his own. Inside, it was dark and domed but high enough even for Chewie to stand in without ducking. A table made of bricks and wood sat against one side of the wall, and his treasured calligraphy set was placed upon it. The makeshift cot was fitted with Ben's blankets, sheets from home, and his favourite books stacked in the corner. His father eyed the little shack appreciatively, pleased with their work, before turning to his sullen son and crouching down. Han handed Ben his lucky golden dice from his pocket, which normally hung within his cockpit.
Ben took the gift, another keepsake from home he would treasure. His father had always let him play with the die whenever they had been within the Falcon.
"It's not forever, kid. Your mother and I just want you to be safe. I don't understand the Force, but I do know you. You are my son. You have strength in you you cannot even begin to understand, and I know you'll make us proud."
Ben swallowed hard; he must put aside his childish feelings and become the man he was meant to be. He nodded at his father, who gave him a smirk before enveloping him in a firm embrace. Ben could feel a swell of emotions within his father's arms emanating from his father: pride, sadness, and fear. The fear wasn't just for Ben but for the future: what would Han do now without his boy? What would he and Leia become if not parents to their son? Ben squeezed his fingers into his father's jacket, smelling the old leather and oil, glad not to be the only one anxious about the path they were about to tread separately.
The next morning, Ben's parents and Chewbacca left amidst tears and sad smiles, and Ben's lessons with his Uncle began. Despite Ben's negative disposition to his Uncle and the situation, his Uncle Luke was a good and kind teacher with boundless patience and understanding. Ben soon forgot the monk-like relic who'd spoken in riddles; Luke's words now made sense to him in a way he hadn't expected but appreciated.
Ben's days on Ahch-To were spent in three stages:- rigorous physical training- running, climbing, jumping and swimming, all with strenuous requirements for balance implied.
"The Force allows you to run faster and jump higher. Physical strength is helpful. The healthier and stronger you are, the more you endure, and the easier utilising the Force will be. It gives you more momentum, greater height, for it flows all around you and in you."
Ben's physical training also involved training with a wooden staff in preparation for upgrading to a lightsaber when he was ready. Ben was already skilled in combat with a pole, but there was still much to learn and unlearn. He would stand mirroring his Uncle's movements or completing them alone as his Uncle watched thoughtfully, assessing.
"Move your feet; you must be fluid as a river, not rigid and unbending like a rock."
The second part of Ben's new daily life was formal studies: learning the old way of Jedi teachings, reading texts and learning languages. This also included learning his Uncle's new Jedi order, which his Uncle explained was based on his experiences- where attachments and compassion were not forbidden but encouraged. He also learned about kyber crystals and lightsabers and how to construct, mend, or tune the sacred weapons to acquire his own. Luke planned great expeditions to ancient Jedi temples and planets to find artefacts to make a great library and museum for his school.
"If we are to avoid mistakes in the future, we must know all there is of the past."
The last part of Ben's daily routine was the Force itself, meditation and contemplation- Luke often referred to it as lifting rocks. Ben had easily been able to throw his belongings in a fit of rage or upset, but doing it on purpose, channelling his emotions, focusing and concentrating was something else entirely.
"Let the Force flow through you; it's everywhere. To it, the stone in the air feels the same as the stone on the ground."
Ben would sit for hours channelling, reaching out with his feelings, focusing his energy and himself on the balance in the Force. There was many an occasion reaching into the Force when he would close his eyes to meditate by the light of Ahch-To's duel suns and re-open them to darkness, his Uncle smiling at him knowingly.
Often, Ben would accompany his Uncle as he sat on an outcropping high up on the island to reach into the Force in search of others to join their school.
"What does it feel like, Uncle? Others strong in the Force?" Ben asked curiously, considering what his connection with Rey felt like.
"It's a feeling. Each individual gives off a distinct feeling within the Force that pulses. Those on the side of the light feel like a brighter light within the Force. The presence of those on the side of the dark feels ominous and cold."
In the Galaxy's furthest regions, Luke found new Force-sensitive children, and together, he and Ben brought them to Ahch-To. Those of Ben's age were Voe, Hennix and Tai. Ben enjoyed learning with these children. Like him, they learnt quickly, and he no longer felt as frustrated as he had on Chandrila, so separated from his peers. These students were like him. Ben could feel their light presence within the Force, some brighter than others. Some were streaked with colours or darkness, elements of their nature that made them individuals. To Ben, Tai glowed brightest and purest, and of all the children Luke had found, it was with Tai that he struck up a quiet friendship.
However, none of the new padawans gave Ben the same sense of connection he felt with Rey. Often, when he meditated in the Force or reached out with his feelings, he could feel her, or when he was alone, she would appear before him. When Ben felt the Force around her, it was like a blinding white light, purer even than Tai. She had the Force, more powerfully than any of the children Luke had brought to the island. She wasn't aware of it, but she did. Ben wasn't sure why his Uncle couldn't feel her when he reached out, why Luke couldn't sense her when Ben's connection with her opened. He considered that perhaps he should tell his Uncle about the girl, but the idea was only ever fleeting; as with his parents, he couldn't explain her presence, and so she remained his secret, his closest friend. He would watch her and listen to her as she cleaned old, rusted and dusty parts of ships. He didn't understand why she did this; he didn't ask, and she didn't tell. They would talk and listen to each other. She would tell him absently of her day, her family who'd still not returned, and the creature who owned her. She wanted to hear about his life, hear his stories. He obliged to tell her of the island and his lessons, of the other children pleased to see her tenderly hold the doll he had given her.