“Ben,” she says, his name almost foreign on her tongue.
Nothing.
She moves forward, desperation rising in her lungs until she bursts. “Ben, dammit, look at me! They’ll kill you for what you’ve done!”
For the first time in over twenty years, she touches him. She grabs his chin and forces his eyes to meet hers. They are dark and sunken and dead.
“Good,” he says.
His voice is deeper than she thought it would be.
There is a moment where she fights the urge to recoil away but instead she steadies herself. Leia reaches through the thing that surrounds them, that binds them.
She expects anger, rage that’s festered into hatred. Instead, all she finds is overwhelming sadness.

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