"How was I supposed to know that two of the key wildlings were going to shift their allegiance to me that quickly?" She fiercely whispered at a somewhat heated Jon Stark. The minute they had been given time alone; he let her know of his anger towards the swift change in plans. It was supposed to be more gradual. They had intended to get the whole camp by convincing Rayder. Now, in his opinion, it was going to take longer this way and possibly cause strife. The camp would be instantly divided. Her eyes wandered over the borrowed tent of animal skins. Her night duty had been canceled--the white walker she had killed "was 'nough."

"Who knows how many people those two have spoken to! These people need to be united not divided." He reminded as he crossed his arms with a look of clear annoyance. A part of him knew it wasn't her fault. She had done what was necessary.

"I didn't do it on purpose! I killed a White Walker; they saw the sabers-wasn't it your world's superstition that caused this? Your lore; not mine." She bit back. He felt the bitterness at the end, and in that moment, he understood it, but refusing to acknowledge it, he took immediate offense. His family had taken her in without truly questioning any of her story or abilities. His cousin had married her--in lust, love, and duty.

He glared back at her, "Don't you dare. You are a part of our family. Our lore is your lore." Her fierce, heated look softened at what he was trying to communicate. Guilt seeped into her veins, but she quickly banished it. Zipporah always apologized for how she felt; there was a desire to own this bitterness. Just because she was expected to always behave well, didn't mean that she actually had to. There was no Lord or Lady Stark watching her, nor were loyalists to the Starks waiting on her for something. She could be free to feel her emotions. With that realization, the buzzing at the back of her head grew louder, causing her to wince. Jon caught the look of physical pain cross her face. Deciding to shelve the quarrel, he questioned as he moved closer to her, "Are ya alright?"

Reaching to feel the back of her neck, she noted how warm it was. Uncertainty flooded. "I'm not sure." She murmured as she closed her eyes to search the force. Was someone trying to communicate? Was the force attempting to make things go a certain way? What was happening?

"It's a burning sensation in the back of my head; my neck-ah!" She groaned as felt her world shift to a much darker, colder, and scarier place. Lightning flashed above her, and large booms, from what sounded almost like an aerial fight, reached her ears. She wasn't in Westeros anymore. Shit. Where was she and was she really there? Was this a force vision or had she been physically moved? Deciding to test her concerns, she stomped, hard, onto the dark rock surface. It felt real. The noise even echoed through the dark caves. Refocusing, she tried to flip through the planets that would have dark rock and stormy atmosphere like this. Not even Mustafar was this absent of light. Her mind reeled; she felt it then. True, pure evil. Fear settled into her gut; she had thought that the White Walkers were scary. Was this evil just Palpatine or more?

"Kriff." She murmured as her hearing picked up footsteps heading toward her.

A dark figure, dressed in all black, was moving toward her, fast. The shadows obscured the face, but as he or she approached, she realized it was a male. Tall, muscular, and from the body language, determined. Feeling like an attack was imminent, she drew her sabers and moved to meet him.

"Why are you here?" A familiar, out of breath voice barked. Clearly, he wasn't pleased. Surprised, she managed to keep from stumbling backward. Ben. She was with Ben on some dark planet. Why?

"I have no idea." She hissed back. "What the hell is going on?" He motioned for her to follow him. From his body language, she could tell that time was of the essence. Her eyes keenly noted that he had a blaster in hand, and his red saber was gone. "Rey is taking on Palpatine. I have to help her." Ben offered in a slightly panicked voice. As they rounded a sharp corner, they were met with six masked, hooded figures. She easily noted his slight gesture with his head and hand to her-don't draw your sabers yet. Trusting her brother's message, she braced herself for whatever was about to happen. These men seemed to know Ben, no surprise there.

Ben crouched, placed a hand behind his back, and seemingly lost himself in the force. Zipporah could feel him connecting to another and a force transfer? A blue light illuminated his back, signaling to her to light her sabers-white flooded the dark room. Blue and white met red and silver. With grace, poise, and ferocity, Zipporah fought along side him. They fought in unison. Both of their movements were measured, calculated, and were seemingly coordinated with one another. Easily winning, they moved toward the throne room. As they approached, he turned to face her, "Go home. This isn't your fight anymore."

"I can't leave you here to fight this evil alone."

"I'm not alone. You have a family and your own mission. Go." He half reminded-scolded her.

"I don't know how." She admitted. This is when her age and inexperienced showed.

Smirking and moving to look her in the eye, he somewhat lectured, "Look, kid, center yourself and picture yourself where you were. Demand it." The way he spoke halted her. He sounded just like Han. Tears formed; nodding, she quickly moved to hug him, and as her arms wrapped around him, she felt her whole world move. Keeping her eyes closed, she noted that her arms were empty, and a familiar presence was beside her.

"Where did you go?" Jon's voice tensely questioned. Had she physically left the tent or been in trance state?

Opening her eyes, she revealed unshed tears. Zipporah sucked in a deep breath to calm herself before trying to articulate what it felt like to fight along side her brother, even if it was just that one time. She had to admit that they moved well together; in-sync with one another. Before nostalgia could set in, she whispered, "My brother needed me."

"You went back?" Jon asked confused.

"I did, but not by choice. Something drew me there, and my brother helped me escape."

A new ripple in the force. A gasp made its way to her lips; she could hear and feel Rey's request, "Be with me. Be with me." From what she could tell, the girl had all but given up. What had happened? She needed the light. Rey needed encouragement.

Ignoring Jon's questions and concerned looks, Zipporah quickly sat down cross legged, centered herself, and entered the force. "Rey," she began aloud causing Jon to take a seat across from her, "Get up. The force is with you. I am with you. Rise. This is your time." Pulling away from her, confidence seemed to buzz in the force. Zi silently prayed that the other woman would prevail, and with her, her brother would live.

Zipporah felt the need to wait, and Jon looked at her expectantly. "I need to wait, to see if Ben is successful." The force chimed with finality that the light and dark were once again balanced, but there was a frenzy. Rey was dying, but then she was renewed. How?

A deep punch to the gut sent a clear message. "No, no, no." She whimpered as she moved to her feet. The tent felt constricting and too warm. Running from Jon, Zipporah raced through the camp and out into the dark forest. She ran as far as she could, desiring the cold of the North to numb her.

He couldn't be gone. No, he was stronger than her; he had to make it. She needed him. Their small talks made things clearer-brought her a balance of sorts. Why did the force keep taking away her family?

Dropping to her knees in the snow, she let out a sob that she'd been holding. Her body was racked with intense sobbing. Not only had she felt his loss, she could feel the vast amount of the Resistance that was gone. Loss seemed to swirl around her. Frustrated with herself and the universe, she let out a growl of anger and hit the ground with her fists. The forest replied with silence.

Time passed. She wasn't sure how long; she wasn't keeping track. The cold had finally somewhat hit her, but not nearly as much as she'd like. A battle waged within: to get up and push forward or just let grief continue to consume her. Snarkily, she thought about what her dear old dad would do, and even now, she wasn't sure what either man would do. Contemplating further, she deduced that Han had run away from his problems just like she was doing now, and arguably, her brother did the same with his struggle with the Dark Side. A family trait.

She found her resolve to move, for Robb, Aidan, and the fate my new world. Climbing to her feet, she heard a crunch of snow sound from her back left and with one, swift movement she found herself holding a crackling lightsaber to the throat of a familiar face.