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Maybe they spend most of the lonely nights together now.
And maybe, just maybe, the angry, desperate attempts at getting fulfilment have given way to something else. Something deeper and softer and more intimate, something they don't dare name.
The prim General and the volatile Knight .
They hear the whispers, feel the stares, but they don’t respond to them. Cannot.
How are they supposed to explain something they don't understand?
Snoke had reigned with fear and pain.
Their new union seems to finally let them breathe with promises of companionship and maybe, maybe, with the chance of something more.
Maybe they exchange soft touches, hidden from prying eyes, a tender brush of gloved fingers along a cheek, a large hand upon a waist, arms ensnaring necks.
Maybe eyes find each other instantly and flare up with unfamiliar emotions, maybe mouths collide with the ferocity of planets, drawing everything around them into their gravity.
Restraint paired with lack of control .
Maybe they just need to let this thing run its course. Need to find something else to hold onto in the nights, something else to free them from the tight grip of loneliness, something else to bring them to their knees in pleasure.
Or maybe there is no end, maybe they will only ever wish for more and maybe they can never stop this.
Maybe they'll never want to.
Order entwined with Disorder.
Secrets being breathed into damp hair in half-sleep, whispered trustingly into ears in a hush, repaid by recollections of childhood memories and by quiet tears kissed away by gentle lips.
Maybe they can confess to each other, let the other taste secrets on their tongue and lick them out of the other’s mouth, admit to things they will never admit to anyone else.
How much the possession of power excites the one and how far the other would go to sit on the throne.
Maybe they swear to bend the entire galaxy to their will and maybe they believe in it.
One thing is definite.
They never searched for each other but found one another.
And maybe that is enough.